Undefined Darkness
by Wherondale
Summary: What would the world be like if Valentine never interfered in Jace Herondale's life. Instead, after the Uprising, he ran away with his only daughter Clarissa Morgenstern. Leaving the distressed Jocelyn to believe both to be dead. AU/OOC Dark!Clary / Clace
1. The uprising

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Mortal Instrument series. Everything recognisable belongs to Cassandra Clare.

i've had this story in mind for a long time. so i hope you like it.

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He could see the long dark red curls of his wife waving back and forth in the distance. He couldn't see her face, but it was not difficult to imagine the stern expression she developed in her otherwise peaceful face.

A strong glow of bravado shone in the golden blade in her hands.

She swung the swords around and in a matter of seconds everything he had planned so precisely broke down, shattered in a thousand pieces.

The Great Hall erupted in screams and he knew he would have to fight.

He couldn't take his eyes off the beautiful woman now standing on one side of the large wooden doors of the Great Hall. Her eyes fixed on him. Her green orbs burned with her betrayal. He had trusted her, given her everything she ever wanted. He had loved her.

He could feel the abhor rise inside him. Drawing his light silver sword, he balanced it carefully in his hand. His black eyes glowing with rage as he swung his body gracefully around, the next moment he could feel the hard metal collide with the falling body of a young werewolf.

The werewolf's eyes met his as he let out a painful scream, sounding more like the infamous howl of his species.

Jerking the sword aback he allowed the blade to strike the backs of two half-defeated blond fairies.

There was a loud shout from Samuel Blackwell a faithful follower. He turned his head to see a large wolf with grey fur ready to tear into him from the side.

Intrepid he shielded his body by swiftly pulling out a dagger from his inner pocket. The oncoming wolf let out a pained cry and fell to the cold floor, blood rushing out of the wound. The dark red blood slowly turned the wolf's fur lurid.

Someone had started a large fire in the end of the hall, trapping both Shadowhunters and Downworlders together. He could feel the smoke surrounding him, stepping over dead bodies of people he knew so well.

A sting of hurt fell over him when he spotted the remains of his friend Michael Wayland. He shook his head and kept walking. _'Ave atque vale, soon we will bring the end of the Downworlders.' _he thought to himself as he glanced back at his dead friend.

He saw the carcass of the werewolves around him. He saw both Downworlders and Shadowhunters falling around him. And then he saw _her._

Again her eyes revealed the disloyalty she had shown him. She was fighting a fellow Circle member and hate began to rise inside him. For a short time he wondered if he could do it, '_could he take her down._'

'_No.'_ the answer came to him before he could even lift his bloody sword. He couldn't.

But she would feel the same amount of betrayal as she had demonstrated towards him. She was going to wish she had never acted against him.

At the same moment he fled from the scene. He left the pandemonium of the fight behind him. The anger inside him acted for him, and before he knew it he was back in the Fairchild manor.

Walking inside the living room of the large house he saw a woman standing before a crib.

She turned around and sent him a tired smile. "Valentine, back already? Did the signing go swiftly?" Adele asked him in a tired, old voice.

He smiled back at her. The charming, warm smile fell naturally over his lips as he replied, "Yes, dear Adele. Everything went smoothly." He could detect the bitterness in his voice as he spoke and added with a carefree tone, "If you don't mind I wanted to check up on Clarissa."

The woman stepped aside as he walked toward the crib. He leaned over and lifted the sleeping form of his daughter into his arms.

Subsequent of this move he heard a gasp and knew he had succeeded.

The old woman fell to the floor and warranted herself one last glance toward the man leaving the building with the young girl still fast asleep in his arms. Then she drew her last breath.

He found the large black stallion waiting for him in their stable. As he swung himself up in the saddle he pulled out the silver stele from his pocket. He drew three softly curved lines and one circle surrounding them all before he watched the wooden walls of his home ignite in flames.

Clarissa clutched to her father's black leather gear as he rode away from the burning Glass City of Idris. Her breathe indicating she was still sleeping as he galloped into the raven black night.

xxxxx

Exhausted and wounded Jocelyn let the strong hands of her best friend Lucian Graymark help her away from the pale sunken bodies around them. They all looked so young, about her age.

She saw people with their head hanging low; everyone was extremely tired and shaken by the happenings that had occurred earlier.

The fight had died out.

She walked towards the large doors, they had gathered the wounded, both Shadowhunters and Downworlders outside. There was too much blood in the Great Hall to heal and care for the people who needed instant medical care there.

Images from the previous hours floated her mind. She had been extremely nervous when telling the Downworlders about Valentine's plan. Everything could go wrong.

Everything had in one way or another passed wrong the minute Valentine had created his circle.

This was beyond wrong, this was inhumane, brutal and hellish. What had they agreed to back when they looked at her husband in plain awe?

A throbbing pain in her arm brought her back from the memories. Luke was by her side instantly.

"Jocelyn, you're hurt. I told you to draw an _iratze." _He said and threw her a long silver stele and she followed his instruction. He tried to flash a brave smile, but it turned out more like a grim sigh.

After placing the rune upon her skin she felt the stinging sensation and then a warm, healing calm carried through her body.

She sighed deeply. They had won. The remaining Circle members that had stayed with Valentine to fight the Clave and the Downworlders in Alicante ran off. Valentine had disappeared as well. If he had died and burned in the flames or fled from the scene she didn't know.

She looked up and saw Maryse; the woman was a few years older than herself, but still a good friend. She and her husband Robert had stayed with Jocelyn and Luke when they understood what would happen today.

She saw the unsteady, but firm looks the other woman sent her. She could sense something was wrong.

Maryse talked slowly and her voice shook as she spoke to Luke, his face whitened more and more until he looked like a white sheet.

He eyed Jocelyn, who still sat silently trying to understand what they talked about.

Luke started walking toward her; he took deep breaths as he tried to calm his voice enough to tell his best friend the horrid news.

Everything went quite face after that.

She couldn't hear everything he said, her tears streamed down her face and the hot, salty water left a stinging pain in the open cuts that had only began to heal.

xxxxx

She couldn't grasp what news Luke had told him. She had tried to keep calm on their way back to Fairchild manor, but the ache of knowing what would meet her, and the horrible truth that followed her every step, kept her from sanity.

She could see the blank eyes of Luke as well; he hadn't known Clarissa that good due to Valentine's callous behaviour towards Downworlders. But he loved Jocelyn, and seeing her heartbroken made him feel the same way.

Standing outside the debris of her house she willed herself not to cry. If she started now, she knew she wouldn't have the power to stop.

She couldn't take her eyes off the black burnt house, she was told earlier that the fire had erupted fast and killed everyone inside. That was her mother and daughter.

Feeling the tears press against her eyeballs she turned to Luke.

"I need to see Jonathan." She whispered.

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So that's the chapter. And just as you know, it's set 15 years before the actual storyline of this story.

I also wanted to remind everyone of the fact that there might be things that are not cannon in this story, like i might make new runes.

The xxxx means that it's a change in scene.

**Hope you liked the beginning of the story, and if you leave me a review telling me if you want another chapter, that would be great. **


	2. Defeat of Hecate

**Disclaimer: **I do not own The Mortal Instrument series. Everything recognisable belongs to Cassandra Clare.

So here is the next chapter,it's a long one. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter.

Warning: _Some might find it to be minor disturbing scenes in this chapter. _

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The dagger hit the target with such force only the handle was left visible. She walked slowly toward the dummy and yanked the silver knife out of its chest, leaving it with a large rift.

_A lethal throw_.

She smiled cautiously at her own strength.

She closed her dark gloved hand around the handle and threw it again, hitting the target at the exact same spot.

Not bothering to take out the knife a second time, she brushed her palm gently over her forehead. Sweat stained the black glove and she turned towards the mirror.

She was dressed in black gear; around her wrist she had knife sheaths and she could easily detect the elaborate white patterns of runes that were woven into her skin.

She looked into her own pale face, her luminous emerald eyes shining back at her.

Clary licked her lower lip; a drop of salty water hit her tongue. She had lost track of time. That usually happened when she came down here.

The training room was a large room. The only sunlight allowed inside came from two small windows on the side of one of the walls. Other than that, she relied on one of her perfected runes giving her exactly the light she needed.

Clary looked around the room, her eyes darted towards the door, which opened slowly.

"If you are here to lecture me about my attitude again, you can just leave right now." She told the man harshly. She picked up one of the long silver swords hanging on the left-side wall and avoided facing the irritated man standing by the door.

"I'm not here to lecture you about anything Clarissa." He began, but as he drew a deep breath, starting his next sentence, he was cut off by the sudden movement in the room.

Clary was standing a few feet away from him with the sharp blade pointing at his throat.

"If so, then I strongly advise you to leave me alone. I'm not in the mood for company." She hissed at him in acrimony. She could see the nervous movement in his throat and without a single argument he backed away leaving her in her angry state.

'_Pathetic' _the thought ran through her head before she walked straight for the changing room leaving her training aside for the day. Or night. She couldn't really tell the difference anymore.

Inside the changing room she let her heavy gear fall off her body, blotting her naked skin. She was covered in faint scars from the burns of the stele. Her body filled with a satisfied spirit.

Letting her flaring red hair fall down her shoulders in light waves she turned to face her daily hot shower. Her neck was sore from all the angry punches she had thrown at the punching bag.

Even as much as her dad had told it was not worth, it Clary had convinced him to let her train and learn the mundane ways of fighting. She found it to be the best way of controlling her temper.

xxxx

The last few days had been long and he couldn't believe another year had come to an end. His eyes roamed the room, taking in the calming lights of the enormous hall. People was streaming past him and smiling goodbyes towards him.

A strong hand knocked into his back and he heard the voices of his friends.

"Your last day Jon, can't say we're going to miss you." He heard the mocking voice and turned around.

Jace Herondale stood in front of him with his signature smirk plastered on his face.

"That's not true. The academy won't be the same without you two." Isabelle Lightwood said and gave her brother, Alec Lightwood, a light smile before turning in the direction of Jace and himself.

"That's nice, but I can't say I'll miss you and your abnormal lack of understanding the simplicity of when to not open your mouth, Jace." He replied, one of the corners of his lips curved upwards.

"Pardon me for asking Fairchild, but are you calling me stupid?" Jace let out a jokingly gasp of hurt and smiled daringly at the other boy.

"I'm not saying you are stupid, I'm just saying you have bad luck when it comes to thinking." Jonathan smiled back and turned to face Alec and his sister.

He could detect Jace cursing him behind his back, and shook his head slightly.

xxxx

The trip back from the academy wasn't really anything to bother with. The four teenagers turned up at their own homes using the school portal leading them to their manors.

The redheaded woman took a short glance toward her son before forcing him into a tight embrace.

"Mum, really?" he teased and tried to get out of her slender arms.

"It's good to see you too Jonathan." She beamed at her son.

The corners of his lips tugged into a soft smile as he studied his mother. Her slim, short body and dark-red hair gave him a warm feeling of familiarity. Blazing jade eyes stared back at him; a soft expression covered her whole face.

"Jon!" A loud voice called from the inside of the house. He could hear the excited voice of his mother's husband, Luke.

The Downworlder gave him a fatherly hug before letting him go and, him as well as his mother, smiled brightly at him.

"Okay. Have I missed something? Because you two seem to be awfully excited about my return." He averred.

They both kept the smile on their faces before shaking their heads and giving him approbation to walk away from them.

xxxx

She stood in front of her father, giving him a stern look before seeing his mouth open slightly.

"Clarissa." She fought the urge to keep from rolling her eyes backwards. She hated that name.

"Learning how to defend yourself isn't an extracurricular activity. It's mandatory. You can't waste your time threatening my supporters. You need to stay focused." He did not take his eyes off of his daughter's face for even a second while talking.

"Maybe you should pick your followers with more care next time then." She replied acerbic.

Her father met her eyes, his black orbs fastened on her green.

Suddenly his mouth twisted into a smile and he let out a laugh. "I have to agree with you Clarissa, Starkweather might not be the boldest of my men, but he is a wise man worth keeping." He explained with the hint of a smirk dancing on his thin lips.

"I know father. I apologize for my behaviour, and I'll try to be nicer to the old git." She said with a cogent voice.

"Good. Good." Valentine began, "But that is not why I called you to me tonight dear."

She gave him a confused look, but he seemed to ignore her.

"It's been identified presence of demonic frequencies on the outskirts of Idris. And before you try one of your snarly comments, this demon might have the answers we need."

She didn't bother telling him off, only replied with a short, "I understand."

Listening to her father's voice calmed her more than she wanted to admit. He told her the basics of his plan, and when she would be leaving. It took about two hours for the whole mission to be explained in details, before he strictly told her to go to sleep.

The next morning went rather slow for Clary. She went straight down to the weapons room and she provided herself with the necessary weapons.

She picked up two dull tubes with blunt edges and secured them onto her belt. A witchlight was placed in her inner pocket along with a thin, strong stele.

When she had all the equipment she needed to face the demon, she walked slowly out through the large doors of the weapons room.

She drew her stele out of her pocket and took a deep breath. These runes were the hardest to make. The ones where she needed to put all her energy into the swift movements of her hand.

Before drawing the rune she closed her eyes and let her hand wander freely.

A few seconds later a large portal opened in front of the redhead and she gave away a satisfied smile. She pulled her hood over her red curls before stepping into the mist of the portal.

xxxx

The sky was clouded and it felt like rain was coming her way as she approached the large building. She could see hints of burned grass under her feet and the wind was blowing vigorously trying its best to knock her out of balance.

She could feel the pulse of the black opal pendant around her neck. And it didn't take long before she stood face to face with the demon.

She had taken the form of a beautiful young girl. Her raven hair falling down her back, her black eyes and blood red lips expressed anger and desire to cause havoc.

"Hecate." Clary said with a confident voice.

"How do you know my name, young Nephilim?" The girl's voice echoed in Clary's ears.

"I know a great deal." She replied before taking a step closer to the greater demon.

The demon hissed an unpleasant comment back at her and mimicked the redhead's moves.

"Hecate." Clary repeated. "I'm not here to fight you. I come for answers, and you will be the one giving them to me." She told the black eyed girl. Hecate's lips had curled upwards and she looked ready to attack.

"How dare you give me orders you fatuous Nephilim." She hissed and Clary could see a fire rise inside her black irises.

Clary let out a fractious chuckle, "Me, fatuous. No, I don't think so."

Before the demon could make a move Clary smiled impertinent. "I come for Valentine Morgenstern." She told the greater demon and held eye contact with her as the demon pondered.

"And what would I have that could help Valentine Morgenstern?" Hecate asked irritated.

"As I so candidly told you earlier, information." Clary returned with a stern gaze fastened on the demon.

"I can't promise you anything Shadowhunter." The girl's voice told her in a calmer voice.

"The mortal cup." Clary demanded.

"I don't know anything about your cup Shadowhunter." The demon replied without leaving Clary's eyes.

"Speaking untruthfully won't help you here Hecate." She told her before taking out the small device in her hand.

"You are not going to fight me young Shadowhunter." Hecate replied before letting her eyes turn flamingly red.

"Try me." Clary smirked and whispered quickly, "_Eremiel_". When the name was called, the blade sprung to life, growing into a bright, glowing dagger.

Clary could already feel how strong the effect of her runes was on her. She swung the dagger towards the demon and hit it hard in the arm.

A sputter left the greater demon's mouth before she transformed into her true self.

Clary watched her grow a few feet, turning a horrid black colour with sharp claws replacing her nails.

"Impressive." Clary muttered and staked the demon again. "Now, have you changed your mind, or are you still up for that fight?" Clary roared and held her blade in a defensive manner.

The demon threw herself at Clary, who swiftly stepped out of the way. Her fortis rune making her glow of strength.

The demon attacked again and covered the view of the sky for Clary. The transparent skylight overhead rippled and bent as the demon lowered toward her.

Clary was sent backwards into the burnt grass, almost losing her seraph blade in the fall.

A low laughter slipped from the demons lips and Clary erupted off the ground. She felt like she was flying as she performed a graceful backflip and landed elegant on the grass barely a foot away. Her blade was clutched tight in her hand and she swung it with all her force at Hecate.

The demon stopped, her eyes glowed with rage and Clary could feel the heat in front of her.

The seraph blade slashed into the demon's large body. Black ichor hit Clary on the right arm and she leaped backward. The fluid burnt through her gear and she let out a pained gasp.

Again Clary was back in the fight, she could feel warm blood welling from a shallow burn in her arm.

Both demon and girl sprung at each other, the demon trying furiously to rip the Shadowhunter apart. Again Clary could feel the awful pain hit her as more acid bit down on her skin.

The redheaded girl screamed and let the blade sink into the demon's body ones more.

Clary backed away as she heard the dreadful scream of the demon. She was blinded by the black ichor as the demon exploded and disappeared in thin air.

"I said you shouldn't fight me." She whispered before taking out her stele and letting another pleased smirk fall on her lips.

With the stele she drew another portal and jumped back to the Morgenstern manor.

xxxx

The four Shadowhunters stood silently in awe. They had watched the whole fight as they approached the manor, but right before any of them could help the mysterious girl behind the hood; she had disappeared into thin air along with the large greater demon.

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Thanks for reading. If you guys review, favourite and follow I would really appreciate that. And the next chapter might be up faster.


	3. The failed mission

**Disclaimer: **I do not own The Mortal Instrument series. Everything recognisable belongs to Cassandra Clare.

Thanks to everyone for all the wonderful reviews. I love updating when you guys reply to the work.  
So here's another chapter, and to everyone who's not read all the books I wanted to tell you that this story is not spoiler free. There are some cannon things happening, and other things that are not cannon.

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She sat down in the brown leather couch and blinked her watery eyes with a pained expression on her face. The portal disappeared in front of her leaving a small mist of iridescent light and she sighed satisfied. Drawing out her stele again she let it fall onto her pearly pale skin.

The familiar burn of the long silver twig in her hand calmed her down. She closed her eyes and traced fine lines of an _iratze _on her arms, where the acid had cauterized into her body. This had left red marks and blood welling down her arms and she was glad to wind up her wound.

Her body was still trembling truculently as she put the stele down. The powerful _iratze_ had given her skin a pinkish colour and felt it extremely sore.

Clary could hear the faint sound of footsteps approaching the door and looked up.

The large ligneous door opened slowly and she could see a man with white blond hair and dark raven eyes walk inside.

His whole appearance indicated he already knew what had happened. She didn't know how, but she knew her father was an extraordinary Shadowhunter, and she didn't question him.

"So, I understand the mission was ineffective on our behalf." He sighed; there was no noticeable anger in his voice as he spoke.

Clary let her eyes fall to the floor as she felt the disappointment in her father's words. He might hide it better than others, but nothing could keep Clary from understanding when she had failed him. His eyes revealed concern as he saw the large tear in Clary's fighting gear; her red skin giving away the fact that she had injured herself fighting the Greater Demon Hecate.

"Yes, or it would depend on what way you look at it." She smirked perfunctory and looked up into her father's dark eyes. "I got a great fight out of her."

He didn't laugh or even reveal the slightest form of amusement regarding her comment.

"Have I not told you to take this seriously Clarissa?" his voice cracking up in distress.

"Mhm, yes father you might have mentioned it at one point or another. Every day. Since I turned eight." She replied sarcastically.

"And just so you know it, I didn't just kill the demon. I tried to reason with her for a good ten minutes before attacking." She finished and could detect the faintest smile playing on her father's lips.

She loved making him smile; it was a skill only a few people in this world possessed.

"Well, if Hecate was reluctant and would not give away the information she so heartedly protected, I don't see how you have done anything wrong Clarissa. Be proud, not many sixteen year olds can fight a Greater Demon alone and live to tell the tale." Valentine's whisper echoed nefariously round her in the small room.

He left as soon as he finished talking and closed the door gently behind him.

Clary felt the smug smile creep at her lips after hearing her father speak so nobly of her. She picked up her stele and left the warm room. The stairs up to her own bedroom felt heavy as she pulled her sore body up the steps.

xxxx

The young boy fell to the ground as a strong hand forced him down. He growled annoyed and pushed himself up from the floor.

"You need to spread your legs to shoulder width and bend your knees. Going to the ground is very dangerous to the untrained fighter like you Iwan, especially if the opponent has weapons." Jace told him as he watched with a look of patience obscured behind his bright golden eyes.

"I'm not untrained. I've been training all summer, Jace." The boy replied with an annoyed tone to his voice.

"Yeah, that's about six weeks you dimwit." Jace returned toward the younger boy.

Iwan's face evoked the natural smirk in Jace's lips. "You aren't forcing Max to train like this." The boy told him and readied himself for another round against the older boy.

"No, of course I'm not. I can't let a Lightwood beat my own brother. That would be too humiliating." Jace chuckled and let the boy swing his light dagger toward his side.

Jace already knew what move his brother would use, and stepped promptly to the side. Again and again the boy found new ways of attacking, but Jace's defences kept him from doing any harm.

"Okay, now you're not being fair at all." Iwan sighed deeply and rolled his eyes at his older brother's teasing smirk.

"Do you really think a demon would fight a fair fight?" The golden boy asked him.

"No, but.." Iwan began, but was cut off by a laughter coming from the door of the training room.

"What are you boys doing here this late?" The soft voice of Celine spoke toward them.

She looked at the younger boy with a velvety expression, before letting her stern gaze fall on her older son; waiting for him to answer her.

"Mum." Jace let out a bit surprised. "I thought you and dad was meeting with the Council tonight?" he told her and studied her facial expression for changes telling him if something was wrong.

"We did meet them, why do you think I am upset you are still training in here. Everyone else went to bed hours ago." She sighed irritated and started approaching her two sons.

"Really? What time is it?" Iwan asked excitement taking control over his voice.

Celine gave him a motherly look and he exhaled as she told him to change and go to bed, he obeyed her orders and left the institute's training room instantly. Only breathing out a tired '_good night' _to the two people left in the room.

Jace smiled warmly at his mother. "I know what you think." He told her and strolled towards the weapon room; tidying the chaos of daggers, swords and bow and arrows.

"And I guess you are probably right, I do push him to his limits all the time, he is working twice as hard as the other novices and it's paying off like hell." He told his mother, who gave him a hard look based on his choice of words.

"You are." She sighed and continued, "And I guess you are right as well, just try to give him a break once in awhile, remember, he is only thirteen." She finished and gave her eldest son a bright smile.

"Fine, I'll give him his little playtime breaks." Jace laughed, and after arranging all the weapons at their right places, he walked after his mother out of the training room.

"So how did the meeting go?" He asked curiously.

"I can't tell you that Jace. " Celine told him as she walked the stairs leading away from the training room.

The New York Institutes was a well-stocked institute with a selection of varieties of weapons, from bows to seraph blades; they were made of all kinds of materials chosen for their magical properties.

This was partly the reason Stephen had agreed to move there on a permanent basis.

The Institute also held basic amenities to tend to the needs of its inhabitants. Celine had fallen in love with the old Institute the first time she sat foot inside it. The large library with hundreds of thousand books, the beautiful Green-House with magical, colourful plants, and even the considerably large and well-put together kitchen, and a formal dining room, able to seat over two hundred comfortably, not that they ever were that many here at ones, had made her want to stay.

Additionally, there were around two hundred bedrooms in the residential wings, open to Shadowhunters and others who wish to take up residence there, so they usually had a bit company.

She was lost in thoughts when a large figure stepped in front of her, her heart leaped a beat before she could focus her eyes enough to see him clearly.

Stephen gave her a light kiss before gazing at Jace, who rolled his eyes and shook his head in bemusement.

"Were you down there training at this hour?" His father asked him and pointed towards the training room.

"Yeah." Jace told him with a bored voice.

"And he had Iwan down there with him." His mother complained.

Jace caught the delighted smile on his father's face and said, "Yeah, you should see him, he's even worse than you."

Stephen laughed dryly at his son's joke and followed the two of them down the corridor.

"So, mum. You never told me what you talked about at the meeting." Jace announced.

"And I'm not going to tell you either." She said brushing off his irritated gaze with a smile.

"Fine, you don't have to tell me. Alec will tell me tomorrow anyway." He breathed out and left the two adults to themselves heading for his bedroom.

xxxx

"What do you mean you can't tell me?" Jace shouted irritated with his friend's dutiful behaviour.

"I'm your best friend. You have to tell me, it's the law." He complained as he sat with his back leaned against the chair in the kitchen.

"I don't have to tell you anything." The dark haired boy answered with a sly smile as he ate his breakfast.

"Fine, but don't count on me to keep your ass away from the next demon trying to eat you." Jace uttered grimly.

Alec let out a laugh and sighed deeply.

"They haven't figured out who he was yet." Alec told his parabatai in a low voice.

Jace looked extremely relieved as his friend decided to tell him the content of the last meeting.

"What? But he can't just disappear into nothing. He has to be somewhere." Jace stated as he sipped his tea.

"I didn't say he had disappeared, I told you they had not figured out who the Shadowhunter we saw was." The blue eyes of his parabatai locked with Jace's golden eyes as he spoke.

"What does that mean?" Jace asked slowly, unsure how someone was able to hide from the council for so long. '_It's been four damn weeks.' _Jace thought for himself and looked away from Alec as another raven haired Shadowhunter stepped inside the kitchen.

"Why is everyone so confident this Shadowhunter is a boy, it could be a girl. Nobody saw more than the persons back." Isabelle Lightwood claimed.

"Okay, that's great Izzy." Jace gave the girl a fake sanguine smile and turned towards Alec to ask more about the Shadowhunter they had seen slaughter one of the few Greater Demons in the world.

Demons, which normally held so much power you would need more than one insanely skilled Nephilim to complete the temporary destruction of the demon.

* * *

Thanks to everyone who read. Hope you'll take the time to review the chapter as well.

See you soon with another chapter.


	4. Warrior of the dark

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Mortal Instrument series. Everything recognisable belongs to Cassandra Clare.

So I'm updating again, just so you can get a bit into the story. Tell me if you like the chapter. It's the longest chapter so far, so i really hope you like it.

* * *

The next week passed without much trouble for the Herondale boys. Jace continued his exhausting training program, while Iwan desperately tried to keep up with him.

From time to time they were joined by Isabelle and Max, who both trained for next term to begin again.

Max and Iwan were starting their first year at the Academy of Alicante in the beginning of October, and neither wanted to hang behind the rest of the new trainees.

Isabelle and Jace would begin their last year, but both were as good as finished with their education already. They could both kill a demon with their eyes closed, and had been sent on innumerable assignments from the New York Conclave already.

Jace walked in to the great library of the Institute when he stopped brusque.

"No, there's already been two of them Luke." The voice of Jocelyn Fairchild spoke hushed.

"We don't know for sure this got anything to do with Shadowhunters." Another female voice rang a bit louder in Jace's voice. It was Maryse Lightwood, the mother of the three Lightwood children.

An older voice made an impatient noise and spoke "By the Angel, we will not get anywhere if you people are going start a fight every time I give you the slightest of information!" the comment left an amused expression on Jace's face and his eyes found the older woman.

Imogen Herondale continued telling the other Shadowhunters about the strange occurrences that had happened the last week.

As none of them had discovered Jace as he stood behind one of the great bookshelves, he listened closely to the conversation.

"Everything points toward the fact that the two attacks were carried out by Shadowhunters; and there must've been some good ones as well. First the clan of vampires in Philadelphia all slaughtered, their heads cut off. From the investigations we've made, it looks like they put up a good fight, but none of them came out of it with their heads still attached to the body." The inquisitor spoke with a ruthful voice.

"Only a few days later there was another attack, this time in the heart of New York. Werewolves." She said, giving Luke a quick, stern face, before she carried on with her explanation.

"As we all know, there's a few werewolf packs in New York." This time all the heads turned toward Luke, but he just nodded in agreement of her words.

"Last Wednesday the pack in New York City was raided and again no survivors. It was a small pack, only 7 members, but still it seems strange." She stopped and licked her lips.

No one spoke for the next few minutes, Robert Lightwood being the one to break the silence.

"Why do the Council believe these two attacks are carried out by the same group of people?" He said, and looked straight at the Inquisitor.

"Same ways of ruthless killings." She shook her head as flashes of the scenes rolled before her eyes.

"They don't leave any traces behind, it's like they disappeared into nothing." She finished with a bothered gaze toward her son and the other Shadowhunters.

At the last line Jace's head rushed up, 'disappeared _into nothing, where had he heard someone say that before?' _he asked himself as a million thoughts ran through his head. '_Into nothing. Nothing.' _He kept saying for himself as the others kept on speaking.

He looked around the large library before shutting his eyes hard. After standing still for what felt like five minutes he opened them again and the memory of the morning a while back came rushing back at him.

"_But he can't just disappear into nothing." _His own voice rang in his ears. He opened his mouth slightly as he remembered the encounter a few months ago with the mysterious Shadowhunter, who alone had killed a Greater Demon.

'_No, it couldn't be.' _Jace told himself.

At the same moment he realised seven pairs of eyes had landed on him and he was no longer hidden behind the bookshelf.

The boy stood motionless for a moment, just staring at the elder Shadowhunters in front of him. His face expressed confusion and bewilderment. "I.." He began, but stopped his explanations.

"I've seen a Shadowhunter disappear into nothingness." He could make out the blurry image of Stephen looking at him with an expression telling him he should shut up.

"I mean, you all remember when Alec, Isabelle, Jon and I went on an assignment a few months ago, the Shadowhunter who killed the Greater Demon. He disappeared, leaving no trace after him." He explained.

The others sent confused glances at one another, not sure what to tell the boy.

It was Stephen who answered, "Jace, I don't think now is the time." He said and gave his son a firm wave with the hand, motioning for him to step outside.

"No, you don't take this seriously!" Jace brushed off his father's order walking with rushed steps toward the table. "You didn't see him. He fought the demon in a matter of a few minutes. It was even in its true form. Even you couldn't have done that!" He gave his father a raging nod and sat down. His father was an exceptional fighter; he'd been the one to train Jace.

"Jace!" His mother exclaimed, shocked over her son's behaviour.

"No, I think he's got a point." It was Luke who spoke.

"What? It was bad weather and honestly, they were standing too far away to see what happened." Maryse told the werewolf, who only gave her a small smile back at her, the smile not reaching his eyes.

"They were four. All of them saw the same thing Maryse." Luke defended the golden haired boy sitting next to him. Jace gave the man a sincere smile, mentally thanking him for taking his side.

"Celine," Imogen's voice rang out, a little rusty as she hadn't spoken in a while, "Can you call for Brother Jeremiah. I think he might be able to help us in the matter." The others gave the old woman a puzzled look, but Celine didn't question her mother in law and did as she asked.

"Why do we need him?" Robert asked.

Imogen eyed her grandchild and gave him a reassuring glance before answering.

"We are going to take a look at this 'invincible' Shadowhunter ourselves."

xxxx

One could barely make out the faint screams of the man behind the sealed door. He was covered in sweat and dirt from head to toes, his legs had abandoned the task of holding him up a long time ago. His hands locked in chains, his body was held up by them.

He felt the stinging pain of the metal as it carved deeper and deeper into his wrists.

"I don't know." He whispered again. "I don't know anything." His voice had become hoarse and failed him when he tried to speak.

"I think you know very well where the thing I'm looking for is hidden." The only other voice in the room spoke to him.

He let out a cry as another knife cut his cheek open, red, warm blood welling out of the new wound.

"Please, no, no more." He tried to beg for mercy, but Valentine Morgenstern was not one to forgive and forget. He let out a deriding laughter and hit the man over the fresh cut in his cheek.

"You know, I used to trust you Jeremy. You could have done great things, but instead you left me." He said in a bitter voice.

"I thought you were dead." Jeremy Pontmercy whispered with eyes closed, the pain in his whole body became overwhelming and he was sure he would soon pass out.

"Liar." Valentine hissed, before Jeremy could say anything, a sharp pang shot through his body and he looked up into Valentine's eyes. They showed nothing more than callousness.

"Pangborn!" Valentine shouted and a stiff, muscular man walked through the door.

"Get the traitor off my floor." He snarled before moving out of the door, leaving his follower alone with the dead body of his once so faithful follower, now with a sharp dagger sticking out of his heart.

He walked down the dark corridor when someone came up on his side. He was about to lash out after the person disturbing him when he was in such an unpleasant mood, when he saw the bright emerald eyes staring at him in impatience.

"Clarissa." He said coldly.

"Father." She replied, showing just as much affection as him.

"Do you need something?" He asked her, opening the door to his study room.

Clary followed him inside, closing the door carefully after her.

"No. I just wondered why you felt the need to torture that man for hours before killing him. Did he tell you anything of importance?" she asked with chide in her voice.

"No. He did not." He said angry and sat down looking over the papers on his desk.

Clary stepped closer to him, watching him determine his next moves on how to get his precious Mortal Cup.

He ignored her for a few minutes before looking up. "If you are only here to disturb me, I suggest you leave now Clarissa." He told her with an irritated mien.

"I just don't think those strategies are one of your greatest." She replied and walked over to the couch in the middle of the room.

"I think I know what I'm doing Clarissa." He said, and Clary suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at him.

"I'm not saying you don't know what you're doing. I am merely suggesting other ways of doing them." She explained and took up a book from the table in front of her.

"You are sixteen. I think I can figure out how to get the cup on my own." He brushed off her comment and went back to his papers.

Clary sighed and looked up from the book, "And still, you are sending me to do the job." She informed him with a smirk playing on her lips.

"Yes, that's because you know what you are doing when it comes down to carrying out the plans. You don't know how to plan them." He explained without taking his eyes off the paper.

xxxx

Brother Jeremiah came inside the library a few hours after the meeting. His appearance sent a shiver down Jace's back. He wore the official attire of the Silent Brothers, a parchment-coloured, hooded robe that was belted at the waist. His eyes and mouth sealed with the runes of the Silent Brothers.

Celine sat silently next to Stephen, Jocelyn and Luke, while the others spoke with the Silent Brother.

After another ten minutes they walked over to the table.

In the next moment, he spoke to Jace. Or "spoke" might not be the right word for it; his voice rang inside her head, rather than outside it. _Jace Herondale, I will perform a non-damaging ritual on you, which will allow me to enter your mind and display the encounter to the other people in this room. _

Jace nodded and swallowed, "Fine, as long as you don't tamper with my perfect mind or pure soul I'll be okay." Jace told him, his mother sending him a scowl.

The Silent Brother didn't respond, taking a few soundless steps toward the blond boy he said in his mind, _and I should inform you it can be a bit discomforting. _

_Discomforting_, was the Silent Brother making jokes? A gruesome stinging pain shot though his head as the memories of the night they saw the Shadowhunter take down the Greater Demon flashed before his eyes.

"_No Jace, they told us to get back to the Institute as soon as we had dealt with the demons, they might start to worry." The voice of his parabatai spoke loudly. Jace laughed, "Yeah, have you ever heard of a Shadowhunter search-party?" Alec gave him a dumbstruck look, "I thought so." Jace finished and kept on walking towards the old manor ahead of them. _

"_Fine, but if you land us in trouble we'll not protect your sorry ass." Isabelle called after him. _

"_Never expected you to either." Jace replied and walked with long steps, a few feet away Jonathan, Alec and Isabelle followed him. They had a few cuts and bruises on their arms and legs, but the_ _Elapid demons, which were massive, snake-headed creatures with thick, scaled bodies, hadn't been putting up to much of a fight for the four skilled Shadowhunters. _

_Jace was still pumping with adrenaline from the fight, and wouldn't just leave when the sensor still showed demonic frequencies. _

_As they neared the manor they heard a loud hissing and ran forward. A person dressed in black gear swung a large, glowing Seraph blade in the air, it dug into the demons skin, which caused the demon to lash out at the Shadowhunter. _

_Jace gave the other teens a smug look, "Told you my inner sensor detected some fun." He said before racing up the hill toward the other Shadowhunter and what looked like the Greater Demon, Hecate; which they had studied along with the other Greater Demons at the Academy. _

_The teens caught up with Jace at the top of the hill, confused looks smeared on their faces. _

_The Shadowhunter was gone, and so was the Greater Demon. _

Jace let out a pained growl and massaged his forehead, "Liar." He muttered at the Silent Brother before turning toward his parents and their friends.

"So, still not important?" He asked before sitting down on a chair next to Robert.

His head ached slightly, but the intense pain began to calm down.

"Actually, I think this might be extremely important." Luke let out and stared at the others. Jocelyn gave him a surprised look and asked for him to explain.

"Did you see the way the Shadowhunter moved? It's not the same way normal Shadowhunters are trained; they don't use the same techniques, they don't use that many different weapons. Usually you have the Seraph blades and you choose one or two second choice weapons. This one had all sorts of weapons." He finished and saw the sceptical looks the others gave him.

"Maybe, but how does it matter if the Shadowhunter had a lot of weapons? Maybe he's foreign." Celine suggested.

"I don't really think they train that differently in other countries, remember Alicante Academy is the only Academy for Shadowhunters, they all learn the same things. It's pretty clear this one got his training somewhere else, from someone who's uncommonly good." The werewolf licked his lower lip as he finished speaking, waiting anxiously for a reply.

"When you say it like that, the fighting actually reminded me of someone we all knew a bit too well." Stephen made a grimace as he muttered the words.

Jocelyn's eyes darted toward her friend, "Don't speak of him, he's dead. And I want him to stay that way." She snapped at him before Luke took her hand in his and tried to calm her down.

"I'm not saying it was him, I'm only saying the fighting looked similar." Stephen excused himself.

"Sorry." Jocelyn mumbled embarrassed with her own outburst.

"I think we would do well in finding this Shadowhunter, they might be a great ally against whomever it is that attack the innocent Downworlders." Imogen said, her eyes found Jace, who had kept quiet listening to the others talk.

"Will you help?" She asked her grandson with a smile on her lips.

Jace only nodded, but his smirk crept onto his lips as he looked at her.

xxxx

The days passed slowly and both Jace and the other teens grew impatient with their parents. They should've found something on the Shadowhunter by now.

They all sat on the floor in the training room keeping up an easy small talk. Isabelle sighed and swirled her silvery-gold whip around her wrist. The whip was a birthday present from her father when she turned twelve and Isabelle had shown a high level of skill and proficiency wielding the weapon.

"How much longer do you think we'll have to wait before they tell us something?" Isabelle asked the blond boy sitting opposite of her.

He shrugged and answered, "Don't know, but does it really matter?" He asked. He was still angry with his parents and the New York Institute owners, they had told him that if they found the Shadowhunter they would be the ones to face him, as they didn't know anything about him except for the fact that he was a seriously experienced fighter and they wouldn't risk their children's lives.

Jace snapped out of his thoughts as a loud yell could be heard from upstairs. All four of them were on their feet and heading for the sound before Maryse could even tell them to come up and help.

They met a teary eyed Iwan in the door to the infirmary, he was white as a sheet and looked like he was about to faint.

Jace hurried over to his brother's side and kneelt down to match his height. "Iwan, what's wrong?" He asked in a scared voice.

The boy looked up at his brother's golden eyes and whispered through a sob, "Dad, he's hurt."

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Ahh, sorry but i couldn't help the cliffie. But I'll update soon, so you'll be able to read what happened! Please review and tell me what you thought.


	5. To kill the enemy

**Disclaimer: **I do not own The Mortal Instrument series. Everything recognisable belongs to Cassandra Clare.

Next chapter is up, sorry about the delay. I didn't want to leave you hanging after a cliffhanger, but I wanted this chapter to be good. Thanks to all of you who reviewed!

Warning: May contain some violent scenes. They aren't too bad, but I just wanted to warn you. Okay, enjoy !

Also, i wanted to explain a few things. As this is an AU story, I've decided Stephen and Robert are parabatais, not Robert and Michael. And also the chapter begins a few hours before the last chapter ended.

* * *

Celine gave her husband a quick kiss and watched him walk through the portal along with Robert Lightwood and Frank Gladstone, another Shadowhunter. They had worked all week trying to figure out who this mysterious Shadowhunter might be. Stephen had told her they would be prepared for anything; they had even arranged a meeting with another two Shadowhunters, which would accompany them in the search for the Nephilim.

As they vanished the room grew quiet. Luke sat in a comfortable leather chair, a frown on his tired face. Jocelyn tried to speak with him, but he was still irritated with the others for not letting him help. They wouldn't risk it. They didn't know if this Shadowhunter was used to werewolves siding along with the children of the Nephilim.

Celine went out of the room and guilt began to build a wall in her head. They had promised the teenagers they would tell them if they found out anything about the unknown demon hunter. And yet had they lied to their faces; the truth was that they had tracked a Nephilim they were pretty certain to be the Shadowhunter they looked for. Imogen had spent countless hours with one of her high ranking Clave members, and the warlock Magnus Bane, and they had tracked the last places near New York Institute powerful portals had transported Shadowhunters from one place to another.

And as they needed a warlock's magic to open a portal and the Shadowhunter always had to inform the nearest Institute about the travel, it had been fairly easy to find the Shadowhunter.

One hour ago they had detected another unregistered portal opening in Brooklyn. And this was where Stephen, Robert and the other Nephilim had teleported to.

xxxx

"Please don't kill me, I beg you." The man's voice rang cowardly in the old warehouse.

Stephen and Robert had taken one side of the building, while the three others had crept to the back of the building.

"I'm not here to kill you." A young girl's voice replied coldly.

"Not yet anyway." She finished.

Stephen gave his parabatai a quick look of concern; they couldn't have found the Shadowhunter they were looking for. Robert silently moved forward, nonverbally giving Stephen the signal for him to follow, and they stepped closer to where the voices spoke silently.

"Then what do you want?" the man asked.

"I want information. And if you know what's best for you, you'll give it to me." The girl said threatening.

When Stephen got closer he could make out the black gear she was wearing, traditional Shadowhunter fighting gear.

The man sat on the floor, his back pressed against the cold brick wall. He was shivering, but Stephen didn't know if that was from fear or from the cold. The man's eyes were flickering wildly, not daring to look her straight in the eyes.

The girl pressed a thin, sharp knife against the artery on his neck and he let out a suppressed cry and pressed himself harder against the wall.

"I didn't do anything. I had nothing to do with its disappearing. "He whimpered and tried to push away the knife, which led to the knife being pressed even harder against his neck; a red stream of blood tracing its way toward his black jacket.

"Then why did you run? Why did you run if you had nothing to hide from?" She asked in menace. Her cold eyes fixed on the older man begging her for mercy.

Stephen gave his parabatai a confused look, the girl had a young voice, and he would guess she was no more than eighteen, why would the grown Shadowhunter be so afraid of her.

"You are pathetic Ashwood. Don't try explaining yourself to me. That's not why I'm here." She told him and they could see the man, Ashwood's, jaw tense.

"No. No." He cried, "I don't know where they hid it!" He tried to make his voice louder when he spoke, failing, as his voice trembled too much.

"You really shouldn't lie to me, you know, if I find you useless," she paused, taking a better look at the man sitting before her. "I'll just kill you."

He let out another cry, and from what it sounded like to Stephen, it was forced from his lips due to pain. Robert motioned questioning toward the pair of Shadowhunters standing feet away. Stephen shook his head, and they kept quiet for a few more minutes, listening to the conversation.

"You can't kill me! I haven't done anything to you." He hissed in a trembling voice, obviously growing angry. The female Shadowhunter let out an abhorrent laugh.

"Of course you have, you betrayed my father." She reprimanded.

The man's eyes widened, "Your…Your.." He stuttered, "Your father?"

Again the girl laughed and Stephen gave Robert a bemused look. He saw Robert swing his crossbow from behind his back and steadied it, ready to attack. Stephen took out his own weapon and bit his lip thoughtfully.

"Yes." She replied emotionless. "And you are just wasting my time Ashwood. Ready to take a last breath?" She asked. Stephen could feel the smirk on her lips, even though her whole face was coved by the hood she was wearing.

The man cried out again, but before the girl could act Stephen saw an arrow fly through the air. It missed the girl by inches. Both Robert and Stephen dove at the girl, but before they could reach her she spun around and darted in the other direction. Out of sight.

She obviously didn't want to be confronted.

A loud yell was heard from the back of the warehouse and both Shadowhunters ran towards it. Frank Gladstone was knocked to the floor and the two other Shadowhunters was fighting the black dressed girl.

She had one rapier in her right hand and another in her left, fighting the two Shadowhunters with ease. She swung the left rapier at one of them, Stephen couldn't make out which one, but he was knocked off his feet, hitting the ground with a loud crack.

Robert fired another two arrows at the girl, but she swiftly avoided them.

Stephen watched her in awe, her fighting was exceptional, and not one flaw could be found in her techniques. He had little time to wonder about her skills as he saw a large dagger being sent in his direction. He got out of the way and ran toward the fight.

The teenager had knocked out two Shadowhunters already, which left Stephen, Robert and the one of the two Shadowhunters they had met outside the warehouse. Robert shouted for the other Nephilim to get a hold of the Shadowhunter trying to get away from the fight, Ashwood.

The man nodded and ran toward the large grounds of the warehouse, but before he could get out of sight a knife slashed into his shoulder and he stumbled to the ground. A loud cry left his lips and he tried to get back on his feet. The knife still in his shoulder. Stephen took one look at his parabatai and wordlessly agreed to help the wounded Shadowhunter, leaving Robert to fight off the teenager.

Stephen turned around and ran in the direction of the injured warrior. Taking out his stele and drawing a healing rune on the man's skin. Blood had stained his shoulder, and he looked disorientated, but he would be fine.

Stephen turned to see Robert still fighting with the female Shadowhunter, but noticed that both had dropped their weapons and were using their fists instead. Robert tried to pin the girl's arms behind her back, but she instantly hocked her leg around his and forced him to the ground. Robert was on his legs again before she could make another move; he slammed his elbow hard into her stomach and twisted her around so that he was holding her as a shield. She seemed surprised by his choice of defence and tried to gush out of his grip. It didn't work, Robert was holding her tightly and it looked for a second like he had overpowered her.

In the next second the girl smashed the back of her head into his face; Robert staggered backward, a few loud swearwords leaving his lips, but he kept fighting. He had fresh blood flowing from his nose and a large cut next to his eye. Stephen ran up to the man she had called Ashwood and yanked him back by the collar. "Stay here!" He yelled, the adrenaline kept his voice from calming down.

The man struggled, but one punch in the jaw from Stephen silenced him, and he gave Stephen a shocked and fearful gaze. At first Stephen didn't understand his fear, but soon memories came flashing back at him. _Ashwood, _he knew he had heard that name before. He was one of the former Circle members, one of those who were thought to be dead after the Uprising.

_Why would this girl be after a former Circle member? _He thought to himself. But he had not much time to think as the girl speeded towards him. He hadn't heard anything that sounded like Robert had been defeated. And just a few seconds later Robert came rushing after her, he seemed to be out of breath and his face was covered in blood.

The girl had a large cut of her own, blood engulfing her left shoulder.

She sent a dagger flying fast through the air, Stephen swiftly avoided the dagger, but soon realised it wasn't meant for him. A loud slashing sound could be heard from behind him. The dagger hit Ashwood in back and he fell to the floor, howling in pain as he pulled the bloody knife out of his sore back.

Stephen leaped towards the girl before she could make another move. Adrenaline pumping in his body as he unarmed fetched for the girl's wounded shoulder. He could make out the hissing sound she made when his fingers dug into her bloody wound.

For the first time he could see the bright green eyes of his attacked. It was only a flash, but it was enough to let a cold shiver run down his spine.

Once again the large black hood covered her whole face. And she continued her quixotic fighting.

He caught sight of something shining in her hand, and tried to move as quickly out of the way of a small silver device sent his way, but the quagmire he was in caused the device to cut him in the leg. Pain shot through his whole body.

He tried to keep himself from screaming, but the pain in his leg was unbearable. He looked down at his leg and saw black liquid burning its way thought the black trousers he wore. He knew instantly what had hit him. The small device the girl had tossed at him was filled with demon acid. Acid that was now pressing its way into his blood.

He heard Robert's timorous voice calling out for him, but couldn't find his own voice strong enough to answer. He saw the fight had started up again, glimpses of his parabatai and the female Shadowhunter rushed before his eyes. He couldn't see the entire fight, but heard thundering voices from both pain and the powerful blows they sent towards one another.

Stephen tried to fumble for his stele, but he had lost it when the Shadowhunter attacked him. He felt his body weaken as the toxic demon fluid spread though his body. He wouldn't make his way over to the stele without blacking out.

Again he heard Robert yell at the girl, but this time a flash of light blinded him. After a few seconds the light died down and he saw a large portal open in front of them. The girl ran forward, jumping into the variegated portal and disappear. The portal closing behind her.

xxxx

Stephen's pallid complexion was due to loss of blood and the black fluid that had intoxicated his body. He was extremely lucky to be alive. One of the Silent Brothers stood next to his bed in the Institute's infirmary. Celine sat next to his bed in deep conversation with Robert Lightwood.

It had been four hours since the dark haired Shadowhunter had carried his parabatai through the doors of the Institute, a pale, bloodied Frank Gladstone behind him.

After another twenty minutes Stephen let out a gasp and his eyes flew up. Celine could see the shock in the blue eyes of her husband and she hurried to his bedside.

xxxx

"He's awake." Imogen told the two boys sitting anxiously outside the infirmary. Iwan cheered jubilant, while the golden boy next to him sat silently avoiding his grandmother's words.

"Jace. You can see your father now if you want to. "She told him, but the boy shook his head.

Not in the mood for a discussion, Imogen walked back into the infirmary with the younger boy.

Jace sat with his head low, deep in thoughts when his parabatai walked up to him.

"You shouldn't be so angry with him. They did it because…" His words was cut off by the angry voice of the eldest Herondale boy, "Because what? Because they're so much better than us? We couldn't handle fighting _her_? Because obviously they couldn't either." Jace snapped at his best friend.

"Okay. Shut up Jace." Isabelle followed her brother and gave her friend a vexed look. "You do not have the right to sit there and mope; I know you are mad at Stephen for lying to you. But if you haven't noticed he is currently in the infirmary slashed open from a _Shadowhunter _attacking him!" She wailed at him.

"I know." Jace said with a furious look in his auric eyes. "I know that, that's way I'm mad. He should know we could've helped. They shouldn't pretend we aren't good enough to fight. That's why I am going to find this Nephilim and…" He lost his voice, not knowing what he would do if he found her.

"We shouldn't," Isabelle protested, "The Clave has a plan." Jace gave her a funny look, "I didn't say we. I said I. Nobody said you had to help." He spat at her. "Plus, The Clave has the collective intelligence of a banana." He added. Alec laughed. "Banana? Why a banana?" he asked his parabatai while a smile found its way to his lips.

"Dunno." Jace answered, "I guess bananas are the dumbest fruit out there."

Alec looked up at Isabelle. "Jace is right."

"Since when did you care what fruit's the smartest?" Isabelle gave her brother a confused look.

"I don't, I meant about not letting the Clave do all the work." He explained, giving his parabatai an unusual smirk.

Isabelle turned on her brother. "What do you mean? You can't go against the Clave? Alec you love the Clave!" She lowered her voice while speaking.

"I don't _love_ the Clave Izzy," Alec said injured. "And I don't think we should go against the Clave. That would be stupid." He sent Jace a stern look, his blue eyes meeting Jace's gold.

"Okay, what should we do?" Jace asked eagerly.

Isabelle sighed, "First, you're going to talk to your father." She told him with a motherly voice and pointed at the door.

Jace rolled his eyes, but willingly walked through the door. Leaving the siblings behind him.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and i will update as soon as possible. Leave a review telling me what you thought.


	6. The Bane compass

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Mortal Instrument. Everything recognisable belongs to Cassandra Clare

Here's the next chapter, hope you enjoy. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last few chapters!

* * *

Clary gasped painfully as she removed her leather jacket. Blood soaked through her sweater, making it adhesive against her sore skin.

Breathing heavily as she began cleaning the wound in her shoulder with a piece of cotton wool, she sat down next to the old, dark dressing table in her bedroom.

She tried to keep a calm face, but the pain was excruciating. Her stele lay on the table next to her; she had already drawn the healing rune on her scarred skin, but with the wound still bleeding heavily and rapidly there was little hope it would heal itself without being cleaned first. She picked up her stele, groaning irritated as she drew the _amissio_ rune on her arm, slowing down the blood loss.

Clary heard the door open behind her and looked up into the mirror to see a familiar face stare at her wounded shoulder.

"Do you need any help dear?" The soft female voice spoke up behind her.

Clary turned around, wincing in pain. "No, I'll be fine Maggie." She told the former Iron Sister as she stepped closer to the hurt girl.

"What happened?" Sister Magdalena asked with a voice full of motherly love.

"It was nothing, I just underestimated my assignment. Or rather the protection he was under." Clary told her looking into the woman's flaming eyes. "But don't worry, I made sure he didn't get away alive." Clary reassured her throwing a silver ball into the hands of the ageless woman.

"Thanks to this. I could really use a few more of them; I think it's one of your more successful designs." She gave Maggie a short smile before getting up, the healing rune doing its work by now.

"I'll take that as a compliment, seeing how fastidious you are when it comes to weapons." The elder woman replied with a smile playing on her thin lips.

"Why did you come here Maggie?" Clary asked, watching as the smile left the woman's lips.

"I was sent to tell you your father wants to speak to you."

xxxx

"Anything new?" He asked in a bored voice.

"Nope," Isabelle replied, giving the white-haired boy a shrug, "but we are trying our best. It's not really easy to find information on someone when you don't know the slightest thing about them." She defended herself and dragged out a chair, nonverbally telling him to sit down. It had been a week and they hadn't found anything new on the Shadowhunter who had attacked their parents.

"You know, it wouldn't hurt to be a bit helpful." Jace told him without looking up from the papers they had stolen from his grandmother.

"I know that. But I really don't think you are approaching this the right way." Jonathan explained.

Both boys looked up and gave him the same bemused looks.

"No? What do you think would be the best way of dealing with this?" Jace asked him, his voice bubbling with irritation.

"Well, you are only looking though _old_ papers, they won't give you any new information. Try contacting someone with the knowledge you are looking for." He decried and sat down next to the raven haired girl.

"Oh why have we not thought about that before?" Jace asked no one in particular, sarcasm in his voice. "Oh, I know. Because we know so many people who would willingly help us going against the Clave, searching for a Shadowhunter who can kill you if you get on her wrong side. Yes, there are a lot of helpful people in that category." He stared at Jonathan with annoyed eyes.

Nobody said anything for a long time, staring at one another. The air seemed to shrink and turn warmer. Isabelle opened her mouth, but seemed to be lost in thoughts as nothing came out.

Alec being the one to break the silence said quietly, "We are not going _against_ the Clave." He told Jace, who still sat silently reading through the papers they had _borrowed _from the Lightwood's office.

"Whatever.." Jace shrugged and kept sure the awkwardness in the room was on a high level. He was determined to find this arcane Shadowhunter, the one who had attempted to kill his father. A flash of pale and hurt Stephen in the infirmary made Jace's blood boil from the anger building up inside him.

"I know someone who's willing to help." Jonathan said, speaking for the first time since he had started the argument between him and the others.

The three other Shadowhunters looked at him hesitant, before motioning him to explain.

Jonathan smirked, an expression which felt unnatural on the normally loving and friendly blond boy.

"Magnus Bane." He said the two words with such satisfaction the three others didn't know what he was on about.

"Are you okay John? Because we don't know Bane. Why the hell would he help us?" Jace asked him dumbfound.

Jonathan laughed in a diaphanous manner before his gaze landed questioning on the coal-black haired boy with brilliant blue eyes, who in return eschewed him turning a deep shade of pink.

"Alec?" Isabelle asked shocked, "What are you…" She trailed off looking at her brother's uncomfortable face.

His opalescent blue eyes met hers and she knew what his eyes tried to tell her.

Alec shot up, looking vexed toward Jonathan. "You had no right!" He said in a soaring voice.

"I didn't know you hadn't told anyone." He apologised and looked around the room realising the painful silence his words had brought down on them. "To be honest I didn't think I was one you would speak to before the others." He said, his voice sounding awkward at the confession.

Alec turned around looking back at his younger sister, who smiled at him, her scarred, pale skin making her red lips stand out.

It was a painful silence between the four teenagers for a few minutes; no one knew exactly what to say, and to whom. At least not until a soft chuckle could be heard from the end of the table. Three pairs of eyes zoomed towards the boy laughing.

"What are you laughing at?" Isabelle asked quite bemused.

Jace's golden eyes met her and he smirked playfully. "Nothing, I just find it amusing that Alec can find a boyfriend_, _before me. Or a girlfriend for that matter, come on have you looked at me?" He asked, pointing up and down his lean, muscular body.

Alec let out a breath, obviously relieved by his friends' reactions. "So can you call this High Warlock, or will we go to his place?" Jace joked looking straight at his still red faced parabatai.

xxxx

"Nice to meet you, I began to worry Alec didn't have any friends." A high voice spoke letting the four teenagers step inside his large apartment. Jace and Isabelle shared a shocked look as they explored their surroundings. It was a large room with blue and gold walls, a large blue velvet couch and a round table standing on a soft carpet. From where they stood in the room they could see at least ten doors leading to different rooms, a staircase leading to a second floor with large painting following the steps.

They knew the warlock must be wealthy, seeing as he probably was a thousand years old, but the place looked like a high fashioned Institute.

A smile played on Jace's lips as he walked further inside the room, shaking his head in amusement.

Magnus waved his hand and five glasses appeared filling themselves with a pink fluid. With a quick snap of his silver painted fingers and the glasses flowed in the air one for each of them.

"What is this?" Jonathan asked sceptical as he smelled the pink drink.

"Pink Gin." The warlock's voice explained, "Something I picked up in the early 1900's England. Very popular. And I can understand why." He said, sipping the pink gin.

"No thanks, we're not here to get drunk." John declined and put down the glass.

"I don't know about you John, but I wouldn't actually mind." Jace laughed and tasted the bitter drink, earning an upbraiding look from his elder friend.

After finding their seats on the blue couch and getting over some cringeworthy small talk, Alec asked the warlock, "So could you help us?"

"For you and your gang of distressed Shadowhunters, of course." Magnus smirked and got up from the couch, walking towards a tall shelf with an abundance of magical looking objects. Facing the shelf he picked up a wooden box.

He turned around, his yellow cat eyes following Alec's sapphire blue eyes. "This might help you. But it'll be quite hazardous and if you're caught, you see... Well.. Let's just hope they don't catch you with it." He smirked and placed the box on the table in front of the four bewildered teens.

xxxx

"For the love of god, father. How many times do you expect me to explain it to you?" She hissed angry towards her father. He had nagged at her the whole week, trying to find flaws in her fighting, her decisions and her manoeuvres. Reluctant to understand it was no one's fault the plan had been ruined.

"I did what I had to do, I don't think they saw how I opened a portal, and if they did, why do you care?" She looked straight into his dark eyes as she spoke. They were alone in her father's office; she would never speak to him in such manners if he was surrounded by his followers. Not even Maggie.

"Because, Clarissa, if they find out about you and what you can do, they will most likely try everything in their powers to take you away from me. And I can't risk losing you. Not again." His eyes flickered with raw emotions as he spoke, making Clary glance ashamed down at her own hands.

"I'm sorry father. I'll do better next time." She said quietly, her emerald eyes meeting his black orbs.

"I know you will." He said in sagacity.

At that she understood their conversation was well over, and she got up from her chair walking out the large doors of his office room.

xxxx

"You got to be kidding me." Jace said disappointed, "A compass." He sighed.

"It's not just a compass." Magnus explained. He pointed at the round gold compass with eight stars pointing in all directions. "This will point you to the exact place you want to go." He said turning the small hand around a few times before looking up at the four Shadowhunters.

"But if you're not interested." He said began, grabbing the compass and folding it in the velvet fabric again.

"No. We are, Jace is just being his usual dumbass self." Alec explained, giving his parabatai a teasing smirk.

"Magnus, can I ask you something?" It was Isabelle who spoke for the first time since he showed them the compass.

"Of course my dear." The warlock gave her a blandishing smile.

"If this compass can point us to the Shadowhunter, why didn't you give it to our parents when you helped them a few weeks back?"

Magnus smiled a mischievous smile at the raven haired girl, "It didn't really feel like the right time." He said and gave Alec a quick glance.

"So, how does this compass work?" Jonathan asked looking directly at the High Warlock.

"Easy, it needs your blood." He said and held out the golden compass.

"What?" Isabelle asked, her eyes widening.

"Oh, don't worry, it's just a drop. Maybe two, nothing serious." He explained, watching the girl relax.

Jace moved forward, taking the compass from the warlock. "Okay, I'll do it." He said in his usual apathetic voice.

Magnus snapped the compass back from the golden haired boy and eyed him suspiciously. "Not so fast. You're not doing it alone; I don't trust Shadowhunters like yourself, always thinks they are superior to others. You _are_ a Herondale, right?" He smirked at Jace, who gave him a funny look, but didn't say anything.

"Fine, but we're still using my blood." Jace replied, still a bit confused by the warlock's comment.

Taking out a knife from his pocket, he made a small cut in his right palm. Blood began oozing out of the cut immediately.

"What now?" He asked Magnus, who motioned for him to hold his palm over the compass letting small drops of blood fall onto the surface of the glass.

"That's it?" Jace asked surprised.

"Yep." Magnus replied smiling at the Shadowhunters disappointed expressions.

"Now you take it, and ask for the directions you are searching for."

Jace wrapped a piece of fabric around his bleeding hand before he accepted the compass.

"What? I just ask?" He gazed questioning toward the warlock, who nodded in reply.

"Eh, point me towards the Shadowhunter that poisoned my father and killed Isaac Ashwood." Jace said hesitating, feeling stupid for talking to a compass.

But as soon as his words left his lips the compass' hand began spinning madly around. After a few minutes it died down, pointing them towards south.

"Are you sure it works?" Isabelle asked, giving the compass an uncertain gaze.

"Yes, 100 per cent positive." Magnus replied.

After a few minutes of instructions the four teens headed for the front door, leaving the warlock at the threshold. "Don't break it, if you do, I'll make sure you never see sunlight again." He threatened them as they walked away giving him a light wave as they headed in the compass' direction.

"I'm still not convinced. This seems too easy." Jonathan said, giving the others a worried look, still oblivious to how right he was.

* * *

So that's it. I hope it wasn't confusing. Sorry about the tiny cliffie. But next chapter is already in process, and will be uploaded as soon as possible.

Review and tell me what you thought. Also, I must apologize for any writing mistakes. It's 2 am, and I am really tired. Sorry.


	7. The emerald capture

**Disclaimer: **I do not own The Mortal Instrument. Everything recognisable belongs to Cassandra Clare.

Here's the next chapter. It's the longest one so far, so I hope you like it.

* * *

Jocelyn smiled half-heartedly at Luke who returned the smile gently and kept a firm grip around her shoulder. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to." He told her as they walked painstakingly across the floor. It was late at night, the air had begun to cool and August had started showing its colours.

"No, I want to. I always do. It's just difficult." She replied and unlocked the magically secured door with a silver key she had bought from a warlock almost two decades ago.

After opening the door and walking inside, they could both feel the dusty air around them. It hadn't been cleaned in a long time and the few cardboard boxes piled in the corners of the room looked dilapidated.

"You know, I've been doing this annually for the last fifteen years, but even as much as I force myself to pretend that I am okay, I don't think I'll ever be able to face this room without an empty, cold feeling inside me." She told Luke with a sad countenance on her pale face, her green eyes standing out clearer in the light of the old room than usual.

"I know." Luke put an arm around her holding her lovingly against his warm body.

Jocelyn felt her eyes sting as he pressed her closer to his body, trying stiffly to keep her eyes from watering.

"I'm fine." She breathed and the grip loosened a little bit. "I'm fine." She repeated, more to reassure herself than him this time.

She walked over to the tallest box and brushed her fingers over the surface. Opening the box with heavy fingers, she saw the photo album with pictures of her dead one year old daughter. Her hands shook as she lifted the dark album from the top of the box, brushing the dust off it.

Jocelyn inhaled deeply before opening the cover, her eyes fixed on a pair of bright green eyes. The baby smiled back at her, her short red hair flaring around her round face. The child smiled brilliantly towards the person who had taken the picture.

Another picture showed two children, one younger than the other. Jonathan held Clary tightly in his arms; Jocelyn could remember the day the picture had been taken. It was raining outside and Jocelyn had been inside with her two children watching the water fall to the ground. Clary loved rain. Jocelyn often took her to the windows watching the raindrops racing down the glass. The baby laughed a trilling laughter as she watched in amusement.

Jonathan had walked up to them, him being around three at the time had asked to hold Clary, but since Jocelyn always was of the overprotective type she had forced Jonathan to sit down on the floor before he could hold her.

Jocelyn smiled at the picture of her two children and turned the page over. The next picture was of her mother and Jonathan, and underneath another picture of Clary. Her hair had grown a little bit, still burning red, like Jocelyn's.

While looking at the pictures inside the photo album she was oblivious to the fact that Luke had walked up next to her. He lifted his hand, gently drying her cheeks from the tears staining them.

xxxx

The sixteen year old girl looked around the large roof of the old police building, her bright green eyes focused on the where to put her feet. The air was getting colder now as they were approaching the middle of August. The cold wind left chilled goosebumps on her rune stained arms. And she rolled down the sleeves of her jacket, watching the pallid scars disappear from view.

It felt extremely revealing to not have a hundred fresh runes burned into her skin today.

She looked around, taking in her surroundings. The roof was about 200 feet long and wide and the floor was obviously old and dangerous to walk on. Clary's favourite.

She drew one of her infamous rapiers and pointed it towards the ground.

Her father was away, meeting someone in a European country and would have to get back without Clary's portal rune, seeing as she still hadn't figured out how others could paint the rune without risking ending up in the wrong place. He had taken a young warlock with him, Jackson, or something ordinary like that. This had left Clary alone for the day and she decided to take the opportunity to get some fresh air without having to kill someone.

The evening sun shone orange around her and she smiled at the beautiful view. If she had to spend her birthday somewhere, she didn't mind it being here. She looked into one of the broken windows next to a large entrance leading to the floors under her. Her appearance shocked her as she had forgotten the temporary glamour rune she had burned into her skin, it was another one of Clary's invented runes that she hadn't shared with anyone.

It was a glamour rune, giving her the ability to hide most of her true appearance. Her hair had turned black and she had a paler complexion than usual. Her mouth was thinner and she also appeared taller than 5'2". It was a herculean task to change only one part of herself without using a lot of powers; her emerald green eyes. They would never change.

She stepped carefully toward the opening where there once had been a door. As she neared it she heard voices coming from the stairs. With a groan she turned away from the door and hid behind a damaged single wall next to the staircase.

"No Alec, I am pretty sure your warlock boyfriend lied. This is a piece of crap." She heard a boy's voice ring in her ears. At the word warlock Clary drew her other rapier, ready for whatever it was that came her way.

xxxx

After a few silent minutes footsteps could be detected on the roof floor. Jace gave the others a quick squint and moved towards the sound.

His soundless rune helped him move undetected in the direction of the sound.

His eyes locked in valiant green eyes and they stared at each other for a half a second before the girl pulled her hood over her face and swung a thin long sword at him. He avoided the buffeted weapon and drew his own, shouting for the three other teens.

"So you are the one who tried to kill my father." It wasn't a question; he already knew he was right.

The girl didn't answer and again swung her sword with all her force at him. He answered her attack by pulling out his own sword, a thicker gold blade, with small runes marked all the way up to the sharp end.

They fought brutally for a few minutes, none of them showing any sign of defeat. The three other Shadowhunters were by his side fighting against the girl after watching the striving fight.

_Who the hell was this girl, she fought the four shadowhunters like a machine, her moves quicker than theirs, her sword's strikes stronger and her reflexes faster than theirs. It was like she knew what they would do even before they knew it themselves. _Jace hated it, but it was the truth.

The four had encircled the girl and even thought Jace couldn't see her face he knew she had broken out in perspiration. He saw her grip something from the inside of her jacket and a flicker of silver caught his eyes.

"Look out!" He yelled at the three other fighting Shadowhunters as the girl threw the silver ball at Alec, he avoided it watching it fall to the ground exploding in small sharp teeth with black liquid streaming out of them.

They all knew what she threw; it was the same thing that had almost killed Stephen.

"So you like playing dirty?" Jace yelled at her, again her emerald eyes caught his again, and he could feel the cold smirk forming over her lips.

"You don't know what playing dirty is." She hissed back at him, he jumped back in surprise as he heard her voice. It was a young voice, so full of venom she almost sounded hurt.

She sprung forward choosing to attack Jace first. He swung his sword at her violently.

A pained sound left her lips and he knew he had managed to wound her, probably not badly, but anything that could weaken the girl was good enough.

He saw Isabelle's gold whip fly though the air landing next to the girl's feet. She wheeled around to face the only other female Shadowhunter on the roof.

Before she could do anything Jace had drawn his stele pointing it to the floor. The girl attacked Isabelle with her rapier and tried to stab her in the stomach, Isabelle's fast reflexes saving her.

"Iz!" Jonathan shouted as he saw how close she was to getting speared by the dark clothed girl. He perfectly threw one of his knifes at the girl tearing her jeans. A small stream of fresh blood staining the girls clothes and she swore loudly.

Jace drew the rune he had never thought he had the ability or_ possibility_ to ever draw. The small mark on the roof top floor glowed angry in yellow against the grey concrete. "Get away!" He shouted to his three companies.

They all heard him and zoomed out of the way of the glowing rune cracking the floor in two. The Shadowhunter girl turned just in time to see the already unstable roof burst under her feet. She gave them a fiery look, her eyes burning with hate as she realised what happened. Jace mediocre _destruire _rune opened the concrete floor around her, it didn't have the full effect it could have had, but for some reason he felt like that was for the best.

She fell through the roof floor, dust erupting around the hole. Her body falling fast landing on the cold ground under them, and as the other teens zoomed carefully towards the hole in the roof they saw she had landed unconscious on the ground under them. She was covered in debris from the heavy concrete floor.

They all looked at each other in amazement and fear; they had really overpowered the Shadowhunter.

"Oh Jace, please tell me you didn't kill her." Isabelle's voice whispered behind him. Even as much as Jace hated this girl he agreed, he really hoped she was still alive.

They ran down the set of stairs and straight for the unconscious Nephilim.

The four Shadowhunters began moving the large pieces left of the floor covering her body, and as soon as they had freed her they all stared at her in bewilderment.

Her black hair was tangled around her face, sticking to the skin because of the blood on her forehead. She was extremely pale, with white scars from runes covering every part visible of her body, with the exception of her face.

"Jace, you carry her."

"What? Where?" Jace asked surprised.

"Well, we're not going to leave her here." John replied as he watched the other blond boy walk hesitantly towards the girl lying motionless on the cold stone floor.

"She's still breathing." Jace told the others as he lifted her limp body into his arms. He saw she had what looked like a broken leg and she had a large cut in her shoulder which was bleeding uncontrollably. He carried her out of the building; Alec applied a _mendelin_ rune on both his parabatai and the unconscious girl in his arms, hiding them from the mundane eyes around the building.

They hurried the way from the crumping building all hidden from the view of mundanes, Alec walked next to Jace with Isabelle and Jonathan whispering behind them.

xxxx

The semiconscious girl lay on the stone floor of the institutes training room moaning in pain as the two Shadowhunters approached her. "Should we put an_ iratze _on her?" The female Shadowhunter asked her son. "No." He replied and stopped next to the girl on the floor.

"We'll do that after she has talked." Stephen answered and pulled her up by the collar, again the girl let out a small pained hiss as her broken leg moved in an odd angle.

Stephen didn't care, he was too angry. Not only with the black haired girl in front of him, but the four children who had taken it upon themselves to catch the Shadowhunter girl. He had been furious when he saw his eldest son walk in the doors of the institute; carrying an unconscious black haired girl with a deformed body, looking like she had been thrown off a cliff.

Which he later found out hadn't been too far from the truth. His son had performed a _destruire _rune, which in the worst case could've blown them up into pieces. It was a rune his sixteen year old son had no knowledge about. He could've gotten himself killed.

Stephen felt the anger erupt inside him again and he had to calm down to keep himself from taking it out on the girl. She had almost killed him a week back, but he couldn't do anything to her until they had her fully conscious and ready to talk. He felt the urge to shake her awake, but knew that wouldn't work. She had to wake up on her own.

"Ok, I can't stand seeing her like this. I don't care if she's killed a thousand men or not, she is still a child and I'm drawing a healing rune on her now." There was an angry voice coming from the door behind the two Herondales.

Jocelyn walked inside the training room, her silver stele already out as she approached the young girl. She eyed her carefully; she seemed to have fallen unconscious again after being dragged up by Stephen. Her hands were restrained by a pair of blue burning handcuffs tightened around her wrists, Jocelyn had seen the type of handcuffs before; they were used on prisoners of the Silent City. They were extremely uncomfortable handcuffs made out of blue flames that squeezed closer to the wearer's wrists if they tried to resist or fight them. In worst possible scenario they burned the skin of its unfortunate wearer.

The _iratze _was completed within seconds and Jocelyn walked away from them, her raging eyes not casting them a glance as she closed the door behind them.

After only a few minutes the _iratze _had strengthened the girl enough for her breathing to become even. The rune wouldn't mend her broken leg and possibly broken ribs, the handcuffs around her wrist kept the rune from giving her all its power, but she would wake up sooner than later.

Another five minutes passed by, the faint rising and falling of the girl's chest was the only indication that she was still alive. Jocelyn's rune had calmed and strengthened her breathing. They had decided to bind her to a chair before she woke up. They watched her, talking in hushed voices when they saw her brow crease and slowly, her eyes darted open.

xxxx

Clary gasped in agony as she felt the throbbing pain I her whole body. It was difficult to breathe and when she raised her hand to touch her chest another burning pain erupted in her wrists, keeping her hands down. The horrible pain in her whole body kept her eyes and cheeks moist.

She gazed around in the room, her world was a blur, but she saw two faint silhouettes walking towards her. She opened her mouth to speak, but her throat felt raw and she forced herself to swallow instead. Her tongue was cracked and dry which made even the smallest tasks like swallowing painful.

Again she tried to raise her hand, this time to remove the hair clinging to her face because of dried blood. And again another shot of pain flared up in her arms, moving up to her shoulders.

She looked around, her vision cleared this time. She was sitting on a chair, her hands tied tightly behind her back. She began breathing heavily again, this time for the fear of what had happened to her.

Clary remembered the fight with the four stupid Shadowhunters; she had fought them for a while before the gold-blond haired boy had drawn a _destruire_ rune and ruined everything. Anger flared in her eyes as she thought back at the fight. She had messed up. She had promised her father to never mess up again. He would be furious.

"So, you're awake." A cold female voice rang in Clary's ears.

She didn't reply, another fear came crashing down on her, what did she look like? Clary tried to spot something which could tell her if the glamour rune was still in work or if she had been unconscious for too long.

She looked down at her own naked arms, it would be impossible to detect whether she was under glamour or not by looking at her skin, she had lost a lot of blood and would be pale either way. Instead, Clary threw her head forward, the hair that was not clinging to her face came in to view and she saw black hair. Exhaling relieved, she looked up at the woman standing in front of her.

"Guess I am." She managed to answer after a long silence.

"Who are you?" A man's voice asked her and she turned her head painfully to look at him. Her green eyes met the familiar face of one of the Shadowhunters from a week back, the one she had thrown a ball filled with demon poison at.

"I see you got away in one piece." Clary breathed between closed teeth and forced a smirk on her lips.

The man hissed something she couldn't hear, and moved toward her. "I did, and I'll only ask you this one more time. Who are you?" He asked her in a bitter voice.

"Go to hell." Clary whispered, her strong voice failing her. A burning pain, which made new tears well in her eyes, she blinked to keep them from falling down her cheeks. The man had struck one of her already bruised cheeks.

"We can do it the easy way, you answer me when I ask you a simple question, or we can do it the hard way, we can take you to the silent city and pay the infamous Mortal Sword a little visit. Your choice." He finished before pulling out another chair and sitting down on it.

Clary met his eyes, panic pressed its way out of her emerald eyes and she laughed decried. "You do that. It's your loss Nephilim." She answered, trying to calm down her voice enough to sound dauntless.

"Call for the Silent Brothers, we'll take her down in a few hours." Stephen called out the woman in the room.

Clary struggled against the pain in her chest as she said, "I wouldn't do that if I were you. You never know what those ugly backsliders will do with the information I hold." She didn't know what she was doing. The only thing she knew for sure was that she had to keep herself away from the mortal sword. She couldn't reveal any of her father's secrets, let alone the fact that he was still alive.

"What information?" The Shadowhunter asked stupidly.

"Yeah, like I'll crack that easily." She pressed another taunt from her lips and locked her green eyes with the angry blue eyed man.

Her mind worked painfully fast. Trying desperately to come up with something to say.

She was going to lie her way through the two Shadowhunters interrogation. If it was only one thing she knew better than fighting, it was the art of speaking untruthfully. She saw the man's angry face and acted at once. Her eyes flared up in horror and she flinched when he drew his hand through his blond hair.

Noting the black haired girl's movements, he tilted his head to the side. Clary closed her eyes in pain and let out a light sob.

"Why did you kill Isaac Ashwood?" He asked in his harsh voice.

Clary opened her blank eyes and met the Shadowhunter's deep blue eyes once more.

"I didn't… I didn't mean to" She stuttered, making sure her voice sounded scared and regretting.

"You didn't mean to? I am pretty sure I heard you threaten to kill the man." He laughed mockingly at her.

_Dammit, _she really hoped they hadn't heard the dialogue between the two Shadowhunters.

"I did, but that wasn't until he.." She sobbed, permitting herself a dramatic pause, "he.." Her voice failed her, the burning in her raw throat making the explanation sound even more realistic.

It was a long pause, she could hear the two other people in the room breathe heavily and the woman whispered something to the man. Clary had to oppress the desire to roll her eyes in their credulousness.

"That still doesn't explain why you attacked us." He said, still looking into the girl's wide green eyes.

"I thought you were with him. He said if I tried to attack him he would have many more of his kind waiting for me, ready to kill me in a heartbeat. I said I didn't believe him, tried to put on a brave face, but then you came, and… I.. I panicked." Clary felt hot tears stream down her already white-salted cheeks. She could see his eyes soften little by little.

"His kind?" The female asked her, "What do you mean by his kind?"

"Dark Shadowhunters. The evil Shadowhunters. They used to have a circle, believing only Shadowhunters were worthy of existence, they tried to.." The man cut her off, "We know that."

Clary used all her self-control to keep the smirk building in the corner of her lips from growing visible. Of course they knew that, everyone knew about the uprising. Her father's uprising.

"Why did you attack my son and the three other Shadowhunters with him at the time?" He asked, failing to hide his emotions.

"They attacked me!" She hissed, this was actually true, they had been the once initiating the fight.

"Stephen." The woman called out faintly.

The Shadowhunter, Stephen, didn't seem to listen to her.

"What were you doing.." He was stopped mid-sentence, "Stephen!" The woman called out again, louder and clearer than last time.

"What?" he asked her, turning around to face the female Shadowhunter.

"Her hair." The woman replied simply.

Clary swore under her breath, she knew what had happened. She had run out of time. The rune had lost its effect.

Stephen turned back around to face the girl and saw the long, red flaring hair fall down her shoulders. She became a few inches shorter and her face grew rounder.

He stood up in shock. "Who the hell are you?" The venom in his voice clear in the air as he stepped backward. Clary only smirked, hiding her frustration; it looked like she would have to come up with a different escape plan.

* * *

Leave a review telling me what you thought.

Also I would like to say that I messed up in the last chapter, spoiling my own story. But it's been fixed, so if you don't know what I'm talking about, it's not important :P


	8. A Morgenstern heir

**Disclaimer: **I do not own The Mortal Instrument series. Everything recognisable belongs to Cassandra Clare.

Here is the next chapter. Hope you enjoy it. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, you were really amazing and I am glad you liked it. Thanks!

* * *

Iwan sat silently at the end of the dining table watching the two women shouting angry at the three Shadowhunters.

"I can't believe you would do something like this Jace." His mother said in her usual disappointed voice. "You can't use runes you have no knowledge about."

"I have knowledge about them; I've just never used them before. It's not like I can just go around putting a _destruire _rune on everything that catches my eye." He said lazily, only making their short tempered mother angrier.

"Jace Herondale!" She shouted, the golden haired boy winced at the use of his full name.

"Fine, I'm sorry. I'll never use the rune again. At least not until I've practised it." Celine sent him a death glare and opened her mouth, "I was joking mum. I'm not going to use it again." He told her with a smirk playing on his lips. Their mother relaxed a little bit after that.

Max shared an amused smile with Iwan before he stuffed his mouth full of the meal the two mothers had prepared.

"I'm glad it's not us this time." Iwan whispered to the boy who nodded agreeing with the statement.

After a few minutes of silence Maryse looked up at her two eldest Shadowhunter children, "And you two, when your father gets back.." She stopped herself, taking a long breath, "I'll make sure you will never do something as stupid as this ever again." The mothers shared a look before Maryse asked, "How did you actually find her?" Her voice was still harsh.

No one initiated to an explanation, staring uncomfortably around. Iwan saw his brother glance nervously at his parabatai before he opened his mouth.

"It was my fault. I'm really sorry. I went into grandma's office and borrowed her files on the Shadowhunter. I didn't think I would find anything, but after a few days of looking through them I came over something that sounded familiar, and I dragged Izzy and Alec with me."

Isabelle and Alec stared at the golden boy with shocked expressions; Iwan knew his brother had lied. It was something in the way he spoke, fast and without pauses, but Iwan wouldn't tell on him. They never did when the other told a lie. It was a unwritten law between the two brothers.

"YOU DID WHAT?" Celine shouted at her son and put down her cutlery.

Cringing at their mother's voice, both Jace and Iwan shared a scared look. Iwan tried giving his elder brother a reassuring look, but it ended up in a small trademark Herondale smirk.

Jace peered at his younger brother and tilted his head threatening, which only made Iwan smile wider.

None of them listened to Celine as she scolded at them for being irresponsible and reckless.

After a few minutes the temper in the room had cooled down and everyone was silently eating their food. Grilled salmon with vegetables, something Iwan found rather boring.

A faint sound from the door opening and Stephen walked inside the room; his blue eyes were concentrated and he focused on the two women sitting at the end of the table talking with each other.

xxxx

_flashback_

Clary let out a shaky breath as soon as she saw her father standing next to the door. He motioned for her to follow, and as always she obeyed his request.

The silence tugged at Clary's curiosity and she followed him impatient down the long darkened hallway. She stared in a mixture of fear and awe; he had never let her go down here before. He said it was bad things hiding in every corner.

She walked further down the hallway, taking in every piece of the manor she hadn't already seen.

Valentine took out his silver _stele_ and drew a curly rune on the wall and suddenly a door materialized from the dark red tapestry and slid open. Clary noticed the light was brighter inside the room, and as she was led in she wondered what could possibly be down here.

It was her sixth birthday today. Valentine would probably have her gift down here, something too big for him to take to her bedroom on the third floor.

Clary was wrong. It was not a birthday present.

A tall humanoid with grey-blue skin and purple eyes shining angry at the two people and a mouth full of pointed teeth that jutted in every direction hissed in their way.

"W-what is this, father?" Clary asked, trying to put on a brave face.

"Whatever the Clave is planning, you can never let them know you exist, Clary. You would be at the centre of it all," Valentine said.

"What? Why?" the six year old Clary asked her father.

"Because you are gifted with immense power, powers most Shadowhunters can only dream of possessing." He glanced at his daughter and gave her a reassuring smile.

"What kind of powers?" Clary asked, interested in the topic. She didn't know she had any special powers.

"You see this creature?" Valentine asked, "Yes it's a demon." Clary answered quickly.

Her father nodded his head, "Yes, it's a demon." The demon hissed and tried to dart forward, but was stopped by an invisible ward. The only sign of his barrier was the blue flame on the floor that formed a pentagram. Inside the pentagram it burned the pattern of overlapping triangles into the floor.

In between the spaces formed by the pentagram were symbols unlike anything Clary had ever seen before; it didn't look quite like letters and not quite like the runes she so swiftly could draw. The symbols gave off a chilly sense of menace despite the heat of the flames surrounding them.

Valentine opened his mouth and continued his explanation, "It's a demon of the name _Moloch_. He is known to be one of Hell's most fearsome demon warriors, and you Clary, you have his blood running in your veins." His smile faded, but he kept his gaze at his redheaded young daughter.

Her reaction was surprising. She looked at the demon and walked towards him. "How?" She asked as the stepped even closer to the burning floor.

"It began when you were younger, and you already know what happened the day of the Uprising." He said with a grievous tone in his voice, "I would never let something like that happen to you again. I wanted you to be able to protect yourself against even the greatest evil the world could throw your way." He squatted down to Clary's height and touched her scarred cheek. It was a red scar, standing out from the other white scars on her pale body.

"I would've told you earlier, but I did not think you would understand why I did what I did."

Clary nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She had not yet fully understood what her father told her. "Are you telling me.." She couldn't find the right words. Fear prickled in her skin and she inhaled deeply.

"You have been drinking small doses of _Moloch_ blood from the age of eighteen months, this has left you with great powers, you already know how well your runes works, but we can train you into becoming the most determined, tough, courageous and forceful Nephilim in the world." Valentine saw how his words affected the young girl and smiled a triumphant smile in his daughter's direction.

"Now." He said, snapping her out of her own thoughts. "I did not bring you down here only to tell you about _Moloch_," The demon hissed again, he could not speak; it seemed to be because of the summoning wards her father had put around the demon.

"Your birthday my dear." Valentine touched the top of Clary's head, ruffling her red hair out of place, she let out a trilling laughter and followed Valentine towards a shelf.

The demon made another suppressed noise and Clary turned her head in fear, but he was still trapped inside the flaming pentagram.

When Clary turned back to face her father, she saw he held a thin golden chain in his hand, on the chain hung a ring in the same brilliant gold. The ring was formed as a rolled leaf with a small mark Clary had never seen in her life. It was beautiful.

_End of flashback_

xxxx

"Tell me, what will I have to do for you to tell me your goddamn name?" Stephen asked her, but Clary only smirked in his direction.

"I don't know, but I like the crowd. It makes this so much more interesting." She bit her lip and felt another stinging pain in her chest and sucked in a deep breath. The broken bones had not been healed, and she was still tied to the chair with something around her wrists that burned her skin.

For some reason they had stopped hitting her after the two other Shadowhunters came inside the training room. They spoke in hushed voices and Clary could detect the worried expressions their faces held.

"It would be to your advantage to speak only the truth," he said. "By answering the questions untruthfully, it will only cause you more pain." Stephen finished and leaned back in his chair waiting for a response.

Clary looked up at him and smirked.

"Is that your best threat? Damn that was just a depressingly awful threat." She told him shaking her head slightly.

She could see the man's taking a deep breath, most likely because he wanted to kill her rather than talk. This only made the smirk playing on Clary's lips stretch.

"What is your name?" The question came for the fiftieth time and Clary rolled her eyes at him and sat back in her chair.

"What is your name?" He repeated. Why he still had not called for a Silent Brother to bring the Mortal Sword, she did not know.

'_Tell them your name'_

Clary's head shot up in surprise. She could swear she had heard Maggie's voice, but there was no one else in the room except herself and the four other Shadowhunters.

'_Clary, tell them your real name'_

The voice of Maggie repeated the order in her head. _Okay I'm definitely going crazy. _Clary thought, she probably had a really high fever caused by the excruciating soreness in her whole body, but she didn't have time to think much before the voice rang in her head again.

'_We will find a way to get you, but as long as you are where you are, do what you do best, play the game.' _

She had definitely not imagined the sound of Maggie's voice in her head, it was too real. And as always, she obeyed the request.

"Clarissa Morgenstern."

Silence filled the training room. None of the Shadowhunters spoke, Clary didn't know if they even let out a single breath.

"Your real name." Stephen replied, an angry tone carried in his voice.

"What, you think I'm being _untruthful_?" She smirked again and leaned back in her chair, trying her best to ignore the stabbing pain that followed her every breath.

"You think you're really smart, right?" Stephen hissed at her, his face inches from hers and he had grabbed her arm, sending a gruesome fire of agony though her body.

Forcing the pain out of her head, she looked up at him, her emerald eyes meeting the blue eyes once more.

"Well, I am definitely a bit above average, yes." She shrugged and smirked another trademark smile his way.

Stephen stood up and walked towards the four other Nephilim standing a few feet behind him.

Clary could not hear their conversation, but after a few minutes she grew impatient with their stupid secret circle, "My name is Clarissa Morgenstern, daughter of the deceased Shadowhunter Valentine Morgenstern." She could still not tell them her father was alive, if they found out; he would be hunted down, and maybe even killed.

No, it was better to make up the _perfect truth_.

"Clary?" There was a voice behind Stephen, a woman's voice.

A blond Shadowhunter walked up to her chair and Clary sent her a hateful glare. "Yes." She answered and moved uncomfortably in the hard chair.

"By the angle, Clary. Clary it's really you." The woman whispered and looked into the emerald eyes staring at her.

"Yes, and you are?" Clary jeered.

"Celine Herondale." Celine replied quickly. The man next to her telling her to walk away, but she kept her feet planted next to the chair.

"I'm your mother's parabatai Clary." She explained.

Clary pressed her back against the chair trying to get as far away from the woman as possible.  
"Get away from me." She hissed and she could feel her eyes burn with the hate she felt in her chest.

Celine didn't back off, she pressed her eyelids together and opened them, blank eyes shone in Clary's direction. "Clary." She said softly, lifting her hand to touch the right side of Clary's face.

"GET AWAY!" Clary screamed, unable to keep her emotions in check.

* * *

Please leave a review telling me what you thought about the chapter.

_Since it's Easter I will not be able to update for at least the next four-five days, so I'm sorry about that, but I will give you the next chapter as soon as I am able to. _


	9. Show your hatred

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Mortal Instrument series. Everything recognisable belongs to Cassandra Clare.

I'm really sorry about not updating quicker. But you've all been great, and I love reading your reviews, you are all wonderful.

* * *

Celine, Stephen and Maryse sat around the table in the library, Robert, who had just gotten back to the institute after a meeting with the clave, paced back and forth in front of the flaming fire. No one said anything, they were all lost in thoughts.

"What are we going to do?" Robert finally asked the three others sitting around the table.

There was no answer.

Robert stopped pacing and spun around to look at them. Celine sat with tears in her eyes; she looked bewildered and distracted, while Stephen was looking at the fire behind Robert, his eyes unfocused and blank.

Robert's wife Maryse looked right at him, she had a stern expression and her mouth was open, as if she was ready to talk, but nothing came out.

They stared at each other for what felt like a minute before Robert repeated, "What are we going to do?" His voice was calmer, and he directed the question towards Maryse this time.

"I don't know yet, but we have to somehow tell Jocelyn." Maryse said, her voice trembling a bit.

"We need to tell her and Luke that her daughter has been alive for the past fifteen years, she has been alive without her knowing about it. We have to tell her that, but, but.." Maryse trailed off and glanced around at the others. "How the hell did she survive fifteen years alone?" She suddenly asked and pushed a hand through her dark hair.

"Good question, I don't know. We have to ask her about that when she is awake and recovered. Right now we have to focus on how to tell Jocelyn." Robert replied.

"How to tell me what?" The cheerful voice of Jocelyn rang inside the library.

The four shadowhunters all gasped at the same time, leaving both Jocelyn and Luke mildly amused.

"I'm sorry; we didn't mean to scare you. We just wanted to know if you had gotten anything out of that girl yet." Luke smiled, his voice was calm and nice as always.

"Yeah, you know, when I saw her earlier she looked really beaten up. I mean, I know what she did, but it makes you wonder what kind of life she lived? And for Jonathan and the other teens to do that to her, I was so furious with him. God. How is she? Did you get her to talk?" Jocelyn asked eager to know any new information.

"N-no." Stephen stuttered. "Ehm.. No we haven't. S-she's still unconscious." Stephen told them, he met the eyes of his parabatai, seeking all the help he could get.

"Stephen? What's the matter? You all look really freaked out?" Jocelyn explained and walked a few steps closer to her friends.

"It's nothing." Maryse exclaimed, leaving Jocelyn with a bemused expression on her face.

"No, we're just tired. Just really tired, it's been a long day." Stephen replied and shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"Okay." She said, watching the reactions of her friends as she moved towards one of the chairs around the table.

"So… You haven't gotten anything out of her? Nothing at all?" Luke asked as he sat down next to Celine facing Stephen.

"No, as I said, she has been unconscious since she came inside the walls of the institute. And we haven't questioned her yet." Stephen's voice was shaky and he avoided his werewolf friend's eyes as he spoke.

"Well, maybe we should check on her and see if she is awake, it would really be a benefit us if we got to speak with her before the Clave take over." Luke said.

"NO!" Stephen replied, the only thing keeping him from jumping out of his chair was the strong arm of Robert holding him down under the table. "I mean, no, let her rest.. She's got multiple injuries which need to heal."

Long minutes of silence followed Stephen's words; Jocelyn looked around at her friends. They all seemed distressed and uneasy. She grew more and more impatient with every minute that went by in silence.

"Okay. I am sorry, but something is clearly bothering all of you, and I don't feel like you should keep us in the dark about whatever this is, so can someone please just spill the secrets and get this over?" She asked, not even trying to hide the irritation in her own voice.

"It's.." Celine began, avoiding the annoyed gaze of her parabatai and best friend. "It's Clary." She whispered. She couldn't keep Jocelyn in the dark any longer, the guilt was eating her from the inside and she had to use all her strength to keep the burning pain behind her eyes from turning into tears.

"It's Clary." She repeated.

Jocelyn looked around the room, her irritated eyes had softened and she felt a cold sensation spread through her body.

"Clary who?" She asked, Clary wasn't a common name, at least not in the Shadowhunter world, but it had to be a coincidence, it couldn't be _her_ Clary.

Jocelyn could see the blank eyes staring at her, Celine bit her lip before she opened her mouth to speak up again, "It's your Clary, Jocelyn. Clarissa." She spoke, her voice sounded faint like a whisper.

Jocelyn shook her head, "No, that's not possible, not at all, Clary died, you told me she died!" the redhead's voice grew panicked and they could all see the shaking hands brushing though her hair.

"You told me she died!" She looked right at Maryse while speaking. It had been Maryse who had told her that her daughter had died fifteen years ago, burned down with her house. It couldn't be Clary. Clary had red hair, not black. Of course she could have changed it, but Jocelyn always imagined the teenage version of her daughter to be a copy of herself.

Jocelyn let out a soft sob, her eyes burned and tears had begun staining her cheeks, leaving red flustered marks on her skin as she rubbed away the stinging tears.

xxxx

Jocelyn sat silently in a chair; she felt Luke's warm hand carefully caressing her arm, but she was unable to return any kind of emotions.

A full cup of tea burned hot inside of her hands, she hadn't been able to drink or eat the past hours. The shock and fear that had built up in her body was slowly taking control over her.

"It's okay." Luke said his voice sounded almost like a faint whisper in her ears.

"No, no it's not okay!" Jocelyn turned around to face her husband. Her eyes were blank, but no tears had fallen from the green orbs.

"It's not okay. My daughter has been alive for the last fifteen years and I have had no idea! I haven't even looked for her." Jocelyn's voice was shaky and she pressed her fingers harder against the warm teacup.

"I never even looked for her." Jocelyn whispered before standing up and pushing the table away from herself and her husband. It made a bigger separation between the chairs they sat in and the table, and Jocelyn was able to get away from the painful silence in the room.

The three other people around the table stood up after the red haired woman. Following her moves carefully.

"Jocelyn, it is okay. No one knew Clarissa had survived the fire. I still don't understand how she did, but please don't torture yourself because of this." Celine told the distressed woman.

"I can't.. I haven't even talked to her. I need to talk to my daughter." She said and started walking towards the doors.

"Jocelyn" Luke said calmly, making her turn back around. This time her cheeks were stained with crystalline tears. Luke knew how much his wife hated crying in the presence of others, he got up and walked toward her.

"Clary is with a Silent Brother, he is healing her injuries. But Jocelyn, if you want to see Clary no one is stopping you." He told her with a sedate voice before putting an arm around her waist and following the crying Jocelyn out of the room.

xxxx

"What are you trying to tell me Maggie?" The dark voice of Valentine Morgenstern rang in the dark chamber.

"Where is she?" his voice asked, a murderous sound followed the words.

"I don't know. She never said." Answered Magdalena with a trembling voice.

Whenever her leader became as angry as he was at this moment his eyes would turn almost completely back, and as much as she hated to admit it, it scared her.

"I promise you, Mr. Morgenstern that I will try to contact her again, but at the moment she is not reachable."

In the same instant as the words left her mouth, she understood it was not the right thing to tell him. His eyes darkened even more, and with a deep inhale his eyes locked with hers.

"No." He replied.

"I'm sorry master, but what do you mean?" She asked bewildered.

"I said no. You will not contact her, I don't know how you failed to keep my daughter safe, but you will not contact her. Give me the ring." He said walking towards the ageless woman.

She swallowed, she could feel tears press on the back of her eyeballs, but she would not allow herself to cry in front of the man with the murderous glare fastened on her.

Magdalena lifted her hand and pulled the thin ring off her finger. The absence of the ring left a cold sensation in her body, she loved that ring. It was the one thing that connected her to Clarissa. And also in one way it connected her to Valentine.

She watched as Valentine took the ring from her and held it in his palm. Usually when he possessed items of great power he spread warmth through the room and one could feel the raw power the man alone possessed.

That was not what happened this time.

As the ring transformed, turning bigger to fit his finger, the room filled with the same cold hatred that shone in the man's eyes. He looked at Magdalena, and with one swift movement she understood it was time to leave her leader alone.

xxxx

Clary sat up in a bed. The colour white reflected everywhere in the room and Clary groaned, she was probably in an institute infirmary. Her breathing was normal, and there were no longer a stabbing pain in her whole body when she moved.

She pulled the covers away from herself and saw she was still dressed in her bloody clothes, but a stack of clean clothes lay on the end of the bed. They weren't Clary's typical style, a pair of slim dark jeans and a champagne pink sweater, too large for Clary's short body. She rolled her eyes at the stupid attempt to pretend like she was a guest.

Clary placed her feet on the floor and stood up. It felt weird, she hadn't stood in a long time, and her broken leg was now supporting her like it had never even had a scratch.

Stripping out of her bloody, ripped clothes, she saw her body was perfectly healed. No marks, no scars, except the faint, white rune scars she always had marked into her skin.

As soon as she had gotten into the pair of jeans and forced the ugly sweater over her head, a door opened and she spun around.

A woman came inside with a raggedy man supporting her as they walked inside the infirmary. Even though she seem perfectly fine to Clary, the man held the woman tightly around the waist a pained expression swept over both their faces as they met Clary's hate-filled green eyes.

Clary had figured out she would meet the woman sooner or later, but she had really hoped it would be the latter.

The two adults had stopped. They both just stared at her.

Clary tuned around and began fastening her shoes, they were scratched and the fall had left them with grey dust covering the tips. But she saw that they were still useful.

"Clarissa." Jocelyn's voice called out from behind her.

Clary didn't turn around, but the hair on Clary's neck raised as the voice reached her. She closed her eyes to keep her emotions in check.

The hatred she felt inside her burned under her skin, if she turned around her instincts would definitely take over and she would attack the woman before her mind could work out a sane way to deal with the situation.

"Clary, I can't.." The woman started, but in that moment a thin silver blade came flying in her direction and she was pulled away by the man standing by her side. Both Jocelyn and the man smashed into a cabinet containing herbs and small vials of medicine. Jocelyn looked at Clary in shook and she pressed her lips together. Clary couldn't see her clearly any longer because of dark spots covering her vision. She could feel her blood boiling under her skin and she backed up against the wall.

The blade had come from Clary's shoe, she knew they would've taken everything they considered weapons when they captured her. But no one would have considered checking her footwear for any sharp objects. Clary smirked, but felt the terror inside her build up. She had used her only weapon against the two Shadowhunters and was now left unarmed.

xxxx

"Clary, if you could please just listen.."

She didn't finish this sentence either; her daughter's terrified eyes stopped her words from leaving her lips. Jocelyn had still not looked clearly at her sixteen year old daughter. The flaming red hair covering her shoulders was wavy and she had pale skin, just like Jocelyn. She wasn't tall either.

But what caught Jocelyn's attention were the burning eyes she stared right into. They were bright green. They held a hard, cruel expression, but somehow they were still exactly the same as Jocelyn's own eyes.

Jocelyn took a few steps forward, leaving Luke standing behind her. As his hand glided out her hers, she pressed his hand reassuringly.

Jocelyn walked all the way over to Clary, the only thing separating them was the white infirmary bed.

The green eyes didn't leave each other the whole time, both women stared into the other's emerald orbs. Clary's eyes were filled with a burning hatred, one that Jocelyn had not experienced in a long time.

Jocelyn felt another wave of hot tears press against her eyes, but she did not allow them to pass though. As Jocelyn watched Clary she saw the girl press her hands hard around her metal bars on the side of the bed. The girl inhaled a deep breath and kept a firm grip around the bed's sides.

"Clary.. I can't believe it's really you." Jocelyn said.

She waited for a reaction, but her daughter just stared back at her with abhor shining in her green eyes.

Jocelyn didn't understand the girl's hatred, she tried to smile, but the expression looked tired and sad.

"Oh Clary." She let out a depressed sob and raised her hand to touch her daughter's pink cheek.

Something flickered in Clary's expression and Jocelyn saw the bed smashing into her own body. The pain in Jocelyn's stomach erupted as she fell backwards and the bed came crashing over her.

She saw Clary move quickly out of the way, her whole body expressing her despise for the woman. Clary narrowed her eyes at Jocelyn in anger. She saw her daughter rush towards the doors of the infirmary, and she tried to ignore the pain in her stomach and legs. "Clary! No!" She yelled, but the girl had already ran though the large doors of the infirmary.

Luke had yelled Jocelyn's name and was by her side as soon as he saw what happened.

"Jocelyn are you okay?" He asked her as he tried to push the fallen bed away from his wife's body. His voice was filled with the concern he felt for her as she was pressed against the cold floor of the infirmary.

"Yes." Jocelyn pressed out through her lips and tried helping him getting the heavy bed off. When they managed getting the bed off Jocelyn, she ran after her daughter. The stabbing pain in her stomach forced a low groan from her lips.

"Clary!" Jocelyn ran across the room, but there was no sign of the young teenage girl.

* * *

So there you have it. Sorry about leaving you with the minor cliffhanger, I'll try to update soon!

_Also, if there's a lot of mistakes in my writing, I'll go over this chapter and change the mistakes I find. It was a really difficult chapter to write, and my computer wouldn't co-operate. _


	10. When amber met jade

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Mortal Instrument series. Everything recognisable belongs to Cassandra Clare.

Sorry for making you wait so long, but school's been a pain in the ass lately. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, you are truly amazing and makes writing this story a million times more fun.

* * *

The long corridors of the Institute with multiple doors on both sides started to confuse her as she ran towards a large oak door with a silver doorknob. She had really underestimated the large institute when she had first been captured. The great walls around her were stretching high above her head and she could detect brilliant chandeliers handing from the dark roof illuminating the walls and the floor she was stepping on.

"Clarissa!" She heard Jocelyn's voice call after her, the woman's voice only made Clary's feet run faster and harder over the wooden floor. She reached the door and opened it carefully, making sure she wasn't giving away her hiding place.

Her eyes studied the room for a few seconds. What she saw in front of her was large bookcases with hundreds of old, well-read books and a large table where another ten books lay stacked on top of each other. The library surrounded the circular room and the shelves went up two floors. There were multiple chairs throughout the room. Clary figured out it was circular because it is built into a tower of the Institute. The second floor gallery held, not bookshelves, but things that must have been of importance, it was the same back in the Morgenstern manor. There were books related to dangerous demon magics, necromancy, demon pox, and various other subjects. In between each bookshelf was a glass case, each holding beautiful treasures in them. She walked behind a shelf of books and sighed. There were no sign of any kinds of weapon, nor were there what she needed the most at this moment, a _stele_.

She walked further down the rows of old books, letting her breathing run uncontrollably, seeing as she had just run what felt like three miles to get here and still was a bit shaken by the last few days' incidents. She stopped next to a glass case and looked at the various items inside. She saw a long blue feather quill, a large light, flat and smooth grey stone, which Clary recognised as an unusual large witchstone, a large book with leather covers and beside that a sharp knife with beautiful runes marked against the cold metal.

"You're in a hurry?" A voice spoke ahead of her, and as a reflex Clary grabbed the nearest inanimate object she could find and threw it towards the voice. She heard the voice make a sound indicating he had been hit by her heavy book.

One thing that always complicated her training and also sometimes her first hand fighting was that she acted before thinking. Clary had been getting better at avoiding the habit after her father had started training with her, but when she felt threatened or when something sat her off, she tended to punch first and then find out who she actually hit later.

In this case she should've listened to her father's training advices. The young boy laid across the floor, his head had slammed against the table leg and he groaned irritated. "What the-" He said as he climbed to his feet and stood with bright blue eyes facing her.

The boy reminded her of the man who had interrogated her when she had first been brought to the institute, and her eyes filled with hate. "Who are you?" She asked, venom filling the room as her voice cut through the air.

"I think I should be asking you the same question, and you can answer first, seeing as you just attacked me with a book." The young boy said, he tried using a voice where he sounded scary and demanding, but the childishness in the voice cracked his fearsome façade.

"Sorry kid, I don't really have the time." She said once she understood he hadn't been injured from being smashed into the table. He stared back at her, running his hand through his messy blond hair. "You're a Shadowhunter?" He asked and took a step toward her.

"No, I'm a fairy." She replied with an irritated roll with her eyes.

"No, I see you're a Shadowhunter, I just haven't seen you before."

"Yeah, let's pretend you still haven't, and I'll just leave right now." She told him and walked past the young boy, who leaned against the table as she passed him.

"Are you visiting?" He asked, seeing as the institute was merely a 'drop in-leave when you want', place for Shadowhunters it wasn't a stupid question, but Clary rolled her eyes and kept on walking.

"Yeah, I'm visiting." She said though gritting teeth.

"So why did you hit me with a book?" He asked, his voice filled with amused victory.

"Okay kid. I didn't mean to hurt, but if you don't move out of the way and shut up I'll do it again-" She said, but another voice broke her threat.

"Iwan, get away." The golden haired boy said with a stern voice.

"You don't de-" The older boy cut the younger one, Iwan, off again.

"Move."

One word- but one filled with power. In that single syllable she heard that the golden haired boy was capable of thing a million times worse than Iwan. She met his golden-brown eyes and recognised him as the one who had fought her on the roof of the dilapidated old warehouse.

She found her trademark smirk creep onto her lips, "We meet again." She laughed, even though the sound that escaped her sounded nothing like laughter, it was cold and filled with fury.

"We've met before?" He asked in surprise.

She looked up at him in confusion as well, before she remembered the _glamour _rune she had used on herself when she went out the prior night.

"Oh yes." She replied, keeping her emotions pinned inside her, not letting her anger burst out.

"If you need a reminder, I can show you." She said and walked a little further, towards the golden boy.

"Unfortunately I will have to decline, my brother's in the room." He said, his voice filled with sarcasm. Clary sent him a glare and picked up the sharpest object she could find, which ended up being the metal knife form the glass case. The only object she had found useful while inside the library.

"Wow, are you sure you want to go there Little Red?" The boy asked, his voice filled with a snarky tone. He drew out a set of daggers, holding one in each hand. "You know, I'm getting tired of fighting you." He said, spinning one of the daggers up in the air, before catching the handle.

"Oh, so you do remember me." She stated and went towards him with light steps. His eyes following her, watching every move she made with intense golden eyes.

To Clary's surprise, he didn't attack. He merely stood there, his two daggers in hand, ready, but not making the first move.

"Afraid you got lucky last time?" She asked the boy in her trademark contemptuous voice.

He smirked as Clary took another step. "Nah, I'm just not one to make the first move." He let an unamused laughter slip from his lips.

When Clary reached the spot she wanted, she turned toward him and adopted an attack stance. She saw the boy stiffen, clearly expecting her to jump at him then and there, he quickly mirrored it.

"I guess it won't work asking you politely to move out of the way?" She asked irritated.

The boy, still ready for an attack shrugged, "Sadly, no." He said meeting her angry gaze.

She leapt toward him. He dodged- just barely- obviously not surprised by her attack, Clary found herself wondering what made him slip up. She moved on him again, and again. With her in offensive and him in defensive parrying they moved with each other. Sometimes she could hear metal click and smash, but everything happened to fast for her to stop and see what he was going to do next.

Even though Clary was brilliant, the guy had two daggers, and she possessed only one. He was beginning to overpower her. She backed up to her side and stretched out her arm, hitting his side. But he didn't make a sound.

She attacked again, but this time his left dagger connected with her pale skin and ripped it open. She grunted from the hit, but kept her feet steady.

When she had first began training with her father, she had complained it was completely unfair that she had to fight someone more than a foot taller than her. He had laughed at her childishness and pointed out, that she would have to fight plenty demons, werewolves, vampires and even Shadowhunters that would be taller than her.

He might also have mentioned the blood running in her veins giving her immense powers, and this was what drove Clary to act next. Being bad gave her the advantage of unfair manoeuvres.

The blond Shadowhunter had her arm pinned with his, the other hand holding a dagger at her neck. Her back pressed against a bookshelf. It might have been reckless, and probably completely stupid. He could've torn her neck apart. But Clary was not one to give up.

"Just give up little Shadowhunter, you're-" he never got to finish the sentence. Clary kicked out, her leg met his knee and he stumbled, startled as he hadn't thought of her risking her own life to get away. The knife in his hand pressed into her neck as he fell and she let out a pained hiss.

There's a saying, '_Pride goeth before a fall._' In that moment, Clary was the living example. Her hand met her neck and she felt hot crimson liquid press out of the wound. "Fuck." She mumbled as she sprang down a set of bookshelves.

xxxx

Jace gathered himself and followed the red-haired girl. His leg was unsteady and it slowed him down a bit. In the corner of his eye he could see Iwan standing with his back pressed against the wall. "Get dad." He shouted to his younger brother, who obligated.

He ran after the girl, he assumed it was the same as the one he had sent crashing through the roof a few days ago, seeing as her sarcasm was still there, her green eyes were impossible to mistake. They held such a brilliant iridescent, but still green colour.

He tried searching the large library, but there were no signs of the girl. He slowed down, and walked down a row of books.

A small sound escaped from the door and he saw three more people walk through the door. He saw the red hair of Jocelyn Fairchild, the tall figure of the werewolf Luke Graymark and the unmistakable figure of his own father, Stephen William Herondale.

They didn't detect Jace; their eyes were on something else. All of them leaped forward, and Jace followed curiously.

What he saw stopped him, and he stared in shock.

A kaleidoscopic circle was formed on the ground, the younger Shadowhunter held a silver stele in her hand. She had a paler complexion than earlier, Jace guessed it was due to the loss of blood. A wave of guilt shot through him, this was the second time he had injured the girl and he had gotten out of their fight without more than a few cuts. At least this time it had been a fair fight. Almost.

The girl smirked and walked into the circle. Her eyes shone with triumph as she fell down the colourful hole. She was gone.

They all reached the spot where she had disappeared, but before anyone could jump after her, the portal closed. "What the hell?" He asked no one in particular. He was too focused on the fact that the girl made an portal. No one could make a portal. Well, at least if they weren't a warlock.

"Clary.." Jocelyn whispered just loud enough for Jace to catch the name. He had heard the name before, but he couldn't remember where.

A second later he saw the breath-taking similarities the girl shared with the older Shadowhunter standing in front of him. Same red hair, same green eyes, same face, how had he not seen that ten minutes ago.

And he suddenly remembered; Jonathan had a sister. But nothing of this made sense, she had died in the Uprising. Jonathan had told them that his sister had burned to death in a house, how could she be standing here, looking pretty damn alive. Or she had been standing here, now, there was nothing left to indicate her ever being here.

xxxx

Clary landed in the large manor. Unable to keep her smile hidden she let out a trilling laughter. Five pair of eyes landed on her, but no one said anything.

"Good morning to you too father." She said, meeting the shocked gaze of Valentine Morgenstern.

"Clary." He finally said, his face showing just as much surprise as his voice revealed. And the fact that he called her 'Clary' and not 'Clarissa' was just a gigantic bonus.

"Father." She replied with the beautiful smile still on forming on her lips. "Long time no see." She bit her lip as she finished her sentence with a hint of sarcasm.

"Clarissa, how did you get away?" Maggie asked. She was the only other person in the room that was allowed to speak directly to her, the other three being lower class members of her father's circle.

xxxx

"I'm just that good." She joked; he knew she didn't dare show her emotions in the presence of the unfamiliar faces. Valentine rushed to his daughter's side as soon as he saw the crimson colour on her pink sweater.

"What happened?" He asked, his voice bobbling with fury. He sent Blacktail, Pontmercy, Mooretowers and Maggie a look which told them they could leave, and they were gone.

"I underestimated my opponent. Fell through a warehouse and then got stabbed in the neck by an idiot." Clary told him as her eyes got heavier. Valentine found his stele and drew a powerful healing rune along with an _Amissio_ rune, slowing down his daughter's blood loss and speeding up the natural blood replacement.

"And it was her, father." Clary said, leaning on her father as he finished drawing the runes. He looked up at her with bemused eyes. "Who?" He asked, his voice turning softer as he heard the vulnerability in Clarissa's voice.

"Fairchild." She said, her voice was filled with detest. "I was in an institute, and she was there, with the werewolf." Again she spoke the words as if they cut her tongue as she spoke them.

"Don't worry. They will pay for everything they've ever done to you Clarissa. Remember, fire cannot kill a dragon." He smirked as her eyes lit up with amusement, "Of course." She replied touching her cheek as she looked into her father's black eyes. Even while as exhausted as he could see his daughter was, he still detected the desire to show him her powers, her loyalty and respect.

They started walking out of the room when something in front of them erupted into colourful flames. He looked at the Five-Dimensional Door trapping both of them inside the room. He had no idea what had happened, but the portal covered the whole door and Valentine understood from Clary's shocked gaze, she had not conjured it.

"Father." She said with a bemused voice. "What is going on?"

He had no answer.

In the next second Clary was snapped out of his arms and pushed towards the portals flames. The portal looked nothing like the ones Clary usually made, but it still had a resemblance to the rune-portals.

He stared as the wild flames pulled his tired daughter towards them. He tried unsuccessfully to hold her back. The vibrant flames surrounded her and she was sucked inside the portal. Valentine felt the angry scream erupt in his throat and he slammed his fist into the door as it turned wooden again.

xxxx

Clary was too shocked to even resist the flames pulling her towards the portal, she had no idea what was happening, but the blood loss from earlier slowed down her reflexes. She felt her father disappear in front of her eyes as the cold flames swallowed her.

One second everything went black, the next, she was back in the institute library. The same four people stood around the portal as she fell from it. She met the eyes of the golden boy again, her jade green eyes locked with his amber eyes and he smirked satisfied. Again, there's a reason they say, '_Pride goeth before a fall_.' And for the second time in an hour, Clary was the first-class example of the truth in this.

The floor came fast, crashing into her head-first with the power of a small truck. Pain cracked through the back of her head, and her vision grew blurry and sparkly.

She again felt the darkness surrounding her. This time because of the unconscious state she fell into.

* * *

Thanks for reading, I will update as soon as possible. Leave a little review, because I love reading what you think about the chapters. And if you felt like there's a lot of unexplained happenings in this chapter; you will get your answers, just wait and see.


	11. Maellartach

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Mortal Instrument series. Everything recognisable belongs to Cassandra Clare.

* * *

Jonathan knocked on the door to one of the many rooms in the Institute. He didn't know exactly what he was expecting, but after learning what had happened the prior day, a set of emotions ran through his system. Grief, bewilderment, happiness and resentment. He had not seen his parents since they had left their manor last morning and he wanted to know if they were both well. Last night's incidents had kept him awake and he could not wait any longer for the chance to get back to the Institute and greet his mother.

When he had learned that his mother had been attacked he wanted nothing else than to see her as soon as possible, but something had happened after the attack that made it difficult to open a portal for him to get back to New York.

"Come in." a voice called out from the other side of the door. Jonathan walked into the small room to see Jocelyn and Luke sitting on the sofa, they were both pale faced and their expressions shone of anxiety.

Jocelyn stood up the moment she met her son's worried gaze, but she didn't speak. Jonathan swallowed hard before closing the door carefully behind him.

He studied them both; they did not appear to be hurt, and for some reason that worried Jonathan even more. "Is.. eh is everything okay?" Jonathan spoke softly as the approached them.

"Yes." Jocelyn answered, as much as she tried to mask her nervousness, Jonathan caught it. "Everything is fine."

He met the eyes of the person he had grown up to call his father. Luke gave him reassuring smile before he quickly looked away. Luke looked tired, with his usual ragged look and slightly stooped posture. His blue eyes twinkled behind his glasses as they met Jonathan's dark green eyes, but they lacked the greatness he so often possessed. His brown hair was uneven and it looked like he hadn't been sleeping much.

"I've been so worried mum, when they told me you had been attacked I didn't know what to make out of it. They could've bothered telling me you were fine, they are unbelievable. Next time I come across… " he muttered trailing off, not knowing exactly where he was going with that sentence.

Luke shot him a half-amused glance. "Easy there John, we wouldn't want you to get completely out of hand." he joked, trying to ease the tension in the air surrounding them.

John shot him a glare, but his lips cracked into a careful smile. "Very funny." he sighed, before watching his mother take a few steps toward him.

"Jonathan." She began. Again her voice left him with a concerned feeling.

"Can you please sit down?" asked Jocelyn, guiding him to the nearest chair and she took the seat next to him.

He did as he was asked and sat down.

"There is something I need to tell you, but I don't know exactly how to begin." Jocelyn explained. Jonathan shifted uncomfortably in his chair as she spoke.

When Jonathan didn't reply, Jocelyn tried finding the right words that would explain something Jonathan had never expected he would ever hear.

"You remember the girl you brought back to the Institute a few days ago, right?" she asked, Jonathan could clearly hear she struggled to find the right words to form the right sentences.

"Of course, it's quite hard forgetting someone falling through a roof." he replied.

He had not meant for the comment to be amusing, but Jocelyn sent him a stiff smile even though her eyes did not show any sign of entertainment.

"Well." she started. She looked over her shoulder to find Luke coming up to her side. He sat down and inhaled deeply. Jocelyn sent him a grateful glance as he began the explanation.

"Fifteen years ago of the day of the Uprising, your mother and I went against your father and fought against him to bring down his plans of eradicating the whole downworld population."

Jonathan had already heard the story. They had told him about the Uprising when he was five years old. He was three when the Great Hall had been attacked and he remembered some parts of the aftermath. He remembered the way his mother had cried for days, how they had moved from their home without any explanation. Without his father and sister. Which at the age of three he had not questioned, he was not able to understand what had happened, but as he grew older, he became curious as to what had happened to his baby sister and his father.

He could still not think about that day without anger blossoming inside him. He despised the actions of his father, seeing as he grew up with his father figure being werewolf he had never held the same prejudicial, supremacist, condescending and evil ways of thinking as his father and some of the elder Shadowhunters had. The world had changed and after the Tenth Accords was written many of the once so biased Shadowhunters had opened the thoughts of a more harmonious way of living side by side with the Downworlders.

Jocelyn took in a deep breath, closing her eyes slowly. "You were only three on the day of the Uprising, and I know we've already explained what happened to..to your sister and my mother." Jocelyn hesitated.

"But the truth we once told you..that truth is no longer relevant." Jocelyn shook her sadly, desperate for a few more words helping her explain what she was about to tell him.

Jonathan sat still in his chair. He tightened his jaw and looked at his mother in bewilderment. "What do you mean 'the truth is no longer relevant'?" he asked, repeating her words slowly.

"Clarissa is not dead Jonathan." Luke said; his voice no louder than a whisper.

Jonathan's bottle green eyes went very wide and round. He looked at his mother and then at Luke, trying to determine if they were really telling him the truth or if this was some sick joke. But he knew his parents and they were not very mischievous, he could see from their broken features alone, they weren't lying to him.

"W-what?" he spluttered shocked.

"The girl you brought back to the institute, it was...it was Clarissa." Jocelyn pressed though her trembling lips as she looked up at her eighteen year old son's shocked and bemused expression.

Jonathan didn't reply. A million questions ran though his head. Where had she lived all these years? How had she managed to escape the burning manor? Why had she not tried to find her family? What if she had tried to find them, but had not succeeded? Where the hell had she learned to fight like she had fought the four of them at that roof?

He looked into his mother's pearly green eyes and asked quietly, "Did she attack you?" it was not the question he had intended to ask first, and it shocked all three Shadowhunter.

"W-what?" the question had escaped Jocelyn's lips this time.

"Was she the reason you got hurt yesterday?" he reformulated his previous question.

Jocelyn didn't reply.

"Clarissa possesses powers we have never seen before Jonathan. We don't even know if she meant to hurt your mother." Luke lied, interrupting the awkward silence.

"Where is she?" he asked.

There was another long pause, "She's in a bedroom on the third floor." Luke replied.

Jonathan nodded, he had no answer. He looked towards the door and rose from his chair.

Puzzled Jocelyn asked, "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to see my sister." he replied shortly and walked up to the door.

xxxx

Clary looked from side to side. She was standing barefoot on cold, green grass. She didn't quite understand what had happened. She remembered being in the Morgenstern Manor with her father. She remembered relief flowing through her as she realized she had actually managed to escape the Institute. Clary had walked over to her father and greeted him with one of her trademark snarky comments. A smile formed on Clary's lips as she thought about the way he had called her 'Clary'. He never called her that. The smile faded, and she went back to studying her surroundings.

She did not understand how she could be standing on an open meadow. The sun was burning her skin. Clary tried walking a few steps, but as soon as her feet moved, a sharp pain flared up inside her.

She began analysing her short encounter with Valentine. They had talked about something, something about fire.

Clary touched her cheek and again the same burning sensation streamed through her body. She let out a shaky breath and continued staring around her.

What was going on?

Clary turned around as she heard a loud sound coming from behind her. Large red flames burned in the cold grass. As the flames ran towards her they turned the grass around them a russet colour.

"No, no, no!" She whispered under her breath. She tried to run from the flames, but the more she struggled to get away, the more she found herself hauled towards them.

The flames connected with her skin. A suppressed scream faded in her throat. The pain that erupted on her skin should've been unbearable, but the flames did not hurt her. There was no smell of burning flesh. No pain at all. Then Clary realised it, she was dreaming. She must have fallen asleep.

She looked around in desperation. She remembered everything that had happened after she jumped through the portal in the Institute library. She had to wake up! Was there any way she could wake herself up?

She didn't have to. She was suddenly plunged into darkness again.

Clary could feel the hot tears clinging to her face and she was about to wipe them away when a voice spoke inside the head.

'_Clarissa?'_ He said sternly. It was weird. She couldn't hear where the sound came from. It sounded like it was speaking inside her head.

'_Clarissa!' _His voice was louder this time. Without knowing exactly what she was supposed to do, she tried the only thing she could think of.

'_Yes?' _There was no reply. At first she thought she had only imagined her father's voice speaking to her.

'_You are back in the institute, am I right?' _He asked her.

Again Clary tried answering; she inhaled and thought of the words she wanted him to hear. _'Yes father. I have no idea what happened, one second I was with you and the next..' _She didn't finish her mental sentence, but he would understand what she meant.

'_Father. How are you talking to me?' _Clary asked, hoping there would be a voice inside her head answering her.

'_It's your necklace Clarissa.' _She felt the metal of the necklace around her neck heat up and she wanted to reach out for it, but she never got that far. She heard the door open and someone stepped inside. _'What happened? Why did my portal not work?' _she begged for him to reply, she did not have a lot of time.

'_My guess is that they've gotten a warlock to put up an anti-teleportation ward around the Institute, it's supposed to keep intruders out, that's why you got away for as long as you did. The ward is not mainly designed to keep someone inside of the Institute, but it seems to be strong enough to keep you there anyway.' _she could swear she felt his anger inside her head as he spoke.

'_Make sure you will always wear the necklace Clarissa, I cannot speak with you often, it drains you of your powers, but when I have news, you will know.' _Clary wanted to say something, but she didn't know what. She wanted to protest, he could not leave her here. He would never do that.

'_Fine.' _the words formed inside her head, she did not know if he got it, because there was no reply. Her head was completely hers again.

With that realization she opened her eyes and stared up at a tall white-haired boy with dark green eyes.

xxxx

He rose from his chair, looking down at the red haired girl. Her eyes were closed and she looked extremely peaceful lying on the infirmary bed; which was actually quite funny, seeing as she was the complete opposite of peaceful.

He had managed to get his parents to let him inside his sister's room. At first, they had refused; they told him it was not a good time. She was hurt and needed time to rest. But after promising to keep quiet and not wake her up, they let him in.

As Jonathan walked into the room he had had a small hope in the back of his mind that she might be conscious and able to speak with him, and when he saw her still body lying on the bed, he felt disappointment filled his body.

Jonathan thought briefly of what life had been like fifteen years ago – even though he could not remember much – it had been easy, his mother had been much happier back then, and even as much as she hid her sorrow and grief, Jonathan saw it in her eyes from time to time.

Jonathan turned and was about to walk toward the doors, reaching them at exactly the same moment as a teeny groan escaped his sister. And then Jonathan froze. He turned his head back to Clarissa and stared at her as though he couldn't believe his eyes. She was most definitely awake – or about to wake up.

He walked carefully back to the bed. His eyes moved slowly up Clarissa's face and he looked down at her bruises. She had a small cut on her forehead – healing from the _iratze_ they had drawn on her skin earlier – it was no longer bleeding, but it still looked red and swollen. Jonathan's eyes moved further down her face, she had a few small scars, which wasn't unusual for Shadowhunter. She looked so much like Jocelyn, and if she hadn't had the youthful features tracing her face, he was sure he wouldn't be able to tell them apart.

Jonathan was still studying Clarissa when his eyes fixed upon another thin scar on the side of her face. The scar went from her right ear in a straight line over her cheek ending where the corner of her mouth began.

He wondered how she had gotten all the scars. And again the questions flooded his mind. Where had she lived all these years? Did she remember him? How had she escaped the fire? Why on earth would she attack their mother?

But before he could begin to puzzle over all his unanswered questions, a pair of bright emerald eyes opened and met his bottle green eyes.

Jonathan stood staring at Clarissa for a long time before she opened her mouth to speak.

"Who the hell are you?" said Clary.

"Hello.. Eh I'm, I'm..eh.." began Jonathan, he was taken aback when he heard the vexed voice of his younger sister.

"Incompetent?" Clary finished the sentence for him. Her voice was filled with irritation, - if it hadn't been for the fact that her father had just explained she was incapable of escaping the Institute and she wouldn't be able to get back home – she would've done something more injurious to the boy.

Jonathan cracked a small smile and a chuckle escaped his mouth. The deathly glare the red-haired girl sent his way stopped him.

"No. I'm Jonathan." said Jonathan.

"And I am supposed to know you?" she asked him with a glint of irritation in her cold voice.

Jonathan sighed disappointed; he had hoped she would remember him.

"Well, yeah. I'm your brother." he told her, one corner of his mouth turning up in a half-hearted smile.

He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but the fire that erupted in the green orbs staring at him was not at all what he thought would happen.

Clary got up from the bed and stood face to face with the blond boy. She could feel how tired she really was, but in that moment she ignored her trembling legs.

Some of the anger Clary had been feeling for days seemed to burst through a dam in her chest. For a split second the two siblings looked into each other's eyes, and it seemed like both were about to act on the tension. Clary didn't know what he was about to do, but she knew she would be able to throw in a pretty hurtful punch if she really wanted to.

Jonathan saw the way his sister looked at her, and then it hit him. '_She really had meant to attack his mother.' _

"You should sit down." said Jonathan.

"Don't tell me what to do." she hissed back at him.

"I'm not telling you what to do. I'm just suggesting that-"

"Well, don't!" Clary replied. "In fact, get the hell out." she didn't want him to be there. He was another Fairchild, and maybe he wasn't like the others, but she didn't want anything to do with them.

Jonathan looked toward the doors. "Nah.." he smiled.

"What?" she asked surprised.

"I'm not leaving until you listen." he explained, ignoring the hateful glaze she shot him.

"I'm not listening to anything. In fact I don't think I have anything to listen to, so why don't you just leave me alone before I-"

"Before you what?" Jonathan asked, "Attack me?" he had a small smile plastered on his lips while he spoke, because as they talked Clarissa just proved him right.

She shot him a haughty look and tried to find a way to flee from his company. "Maybe." she replied and walked passed him towards the en suite.

She didn't usually walk away from confrontations, but she had no idea what to do with the person behind her. She locked the door and waited for him to leave.

Her hatred notwithstanding, she had to admit Jonathan was pretty smart. He had provoked her in a way people could usually not. Clary did not often attack verbally rather than physically.

As she walked out from the bathroom again she saw that in fact he had not left. "I thought I told you to leave me the hell alone." she exclaimed.

"And I did. Seeing as you actually left, I've been standing here completely alone for quite some time."

She shot him another deathly glare and was about to attack him with another round of rather harsh words when the door flew open and both teenagers spun around to face the newcomers.

Clary recognised the woman standing in the door. She was wearing a long, old-fashioned dark moss green cloak that fell to the tops of her boots. She was also wearing a fitted slate-coloured suit with a mandarin collar beneath her cloak. The old woman had four roughly built Shadowhunters on either of her sides and she stared at Clary with flinty grey eyes.

"Inquisitor Herondale." said Jonathan surprised. "What's going on?" he asked her with a sceptical voice.

Clary's green eyes widened when Jonathan spoke, _inquisitor, _that couldn't be a good sign. Not at all.

"Jonathan." The inquisitor replied with a stiff smile forming on her lips. Jonathan nodded waiting for an explanation.

He did not like the thought of Imogen Herondale close to his sister; Clary had in fact attacked Stephen Herondale, Imogen's son and they all knew that the Inquisitor was very protective of her family and did not let people get away with crimes easily.

Imogen had always been devoted to The Clave and The Law. She developed a deep hatred for Valentine Morgenstern after he persuaded her only son to join his circle. She had not held a grudge towards Jocelyn and Luke for being circle members, but she had always held a stiff and even uncanny attitude toward Jonathan.

Her bitterness directed at Valentine had diminished with time, and they had begun to tolerate each other. But still, her presence concerned him.

"You need to come with us right now." One of the Shadowhunters said. He was standing on the right side of the Inquisitor with his fingers grasping around the silver dagger in his hand. "If you resist, we've been told to take you by force." His voice was emotionless; he stared straight at Clary as she spoke the cold words.

Anger exploded within Clary as she stared back at the Shadowhunter who had just spoken. His brown eyes met hers and Clary found herself startled by how calm he seemed.

"Why would you need her to come with you?" asked Jonathan. The Shadowhunter who'd spoken arched an eyebrow, but it was the Inquisitor who replied.

"Clarissa Adele Fairchild we –" "Morgenstern." Clary snapped at her.

"We are here to take you to the Silent City."

"What?" said both Jonathan and Clary in unison, Jonathan in shock and Clary in fear.

"Why would you need to take her there?" asked Jonathan in surprise. Clary straightened her back and smirked to hide the uncertainty she was feeling. Her body was filled with tension and menace now, but this didn't keep the Shadowhunters walking inside the room from grabbing both her wrists.

"Don't make me repeat myself: Come with us quietly, or we will make you come."

Clary found herself letting out a small laughter. She had not done anything, she'd merely been standing still while they talked. "Okay." Clary smirked. She wanted out of the Institute, and so far, this was her best shot.

"No! That's crazy! You're not taking her anywhere until you tell me why you-"

"Because Clarissa is under arrest for high treason. We are under the suspicion she has been cooperating with Valentine Morgenstern." Clary's eyes went wide. _'No, no, no. They could not know her father was alive. It was impossible, he hadn't made an appearance in the Nephilim world in fifteen years!' _

xxxx

After telling Clary why she was being taking to the Silent City, Clary had held out her hands – which they were actually already holding rather ruthlessly – as they clamped another pair of the pale blue handcuffs onto her wrists she shot the only other female Shadowhunter in the room a hateful gaze and took a deep breath.

Everything after that had been some kid of a blur, Clary had left her room and been dragged through the Institute hallway by a dozen Shadowhunters. Jonathan hadn't said anything after the proclamation, and had finally left her alone as he had stormed out of the room.

Now she was standing in front of a statue of an angel. The statue was tall and made of white marble. In its hands it held the Mortal cup; the rim was covered in different coloured gems. On the statue's pedestal was the words:' _Nephilim: Facilis descensus averni__' _written along with the year 1234.

Clary let a silent laugh escape her lips, it was quite funny, '_the descent into Hell is easy.' _ Yes she would say it was quite easy.

Clary watched longingly as one of the Shadowhunters drew his stele, it had some sort of warm glow around it, and as he drew the dark rune Clary stared at the swift marks appearing on the pedestal.

She was so fixed on the rune that she almost overlooked the marble angel as it opened a gaping black hole in the ground around.

Clary was forced down a granite staircase by two of the Shadowhunters that followed her down. She had not seen the Inquisitor in a while, but she knew the other black dressed men took orders from her.

She was led down the stairs by the large torches hanging along the steps. She felt a chill run up her arms as she stared into the blackness at the end of the stairs.

When she got to the bottom of the staircase the first sight that hit her eyes was the great marble archway in smooth ivory colours. On the floor it was engraved the same runes as her skin possessed and she inhaled slowly.

"Where are you taking me?" asked Clary. She had read about the Silent City. Found on the two upper levels of the city were its archives and the council chamber, where the Mortal Sword hung above the Speaking Stars.

At the lowest depths of the city were a series of levels that held the necropolis of the Shadowhunters, where the bodies of those who died in battle were buried, entombed, and sometimes they were burned and used to fortify the great marble arches of the city. Clary felt a cold sensation creep onto her skin.

The very lowest levels of the Silent City held the prisons, known to hold both the dead and the living. Here were several cells; its main purpose was to hold the worst and most perilous of Law-breakers and criminals guilty of great wrongdoing. They would be confined and incarcerated; this was where Clary was led. She was sure of it, but still felt the need to ask the Shadowhunters.

"Soul-Sword." He grunted, not even casting Clary a short glance.

"WHAT?" her shrieking voice asked dumbfound.

"I said –" began the dark haired Shadowhunter, but Clary cut off his stupid attempt to repeat himself. "I heard what you said, but why would you feel the need to take me to the Mortal Sword?" she had not thought of this possibility, it had slipped her mind as she already had quite a few things to ponder.

"You know why you're under arrest right?" he asked, and if Clary had not seen the stern face of the man who spoke, she would've assumed he was making fun of her.

"Stop talking to her." The same stiff female voice rang through the hallway as archway as they all stopped in front of a large tunnel. They led Clary through it and she could smell the smoke surrounding them. As they walked into the light Clary saw they were all standing on a large square pavilion.

Behind a table, on the dark walls of the pavilion hang the enormous silver sword. The Mortal Sword. Maellartach. It was something different seeing the sword in real life. It was beautiful. The sword hang with the tip down. It was a straight double-edged blade with a one-handed hilt made with the silvery white heavenly metal adamas. The hilt included an elaborate design of outspread wings, emerging from the point where blade meets handle.

She looked around the room and suddenly she saw the rune-marked men with stitch or shut eyes and mouth. It disgusted Clary that someone could do that, they looked horrible, but what disturbed Clary the most was the ones who had simply had these removed entirely from their face, leaving blank spaces where the flesh once were.

The Silent Brothers all wore a parchment-coloured, hooded robe that they belted at the waist. The robes held intricate runic designs and decorative marks along the cuffs and hems of their regalia; these were – probably to make them look even more gruesome – painted in blood red ink.

"Good day Brother Jeremiah." The Inquisitor spoke to one of the horrid looking men. She nodded her head and spoke again. "No, we did not. There was no time left." She told him, Clary guessed he spoke directly into the Inquisitor's head.

_Clarissa. Please stand in front of the council. _A voice rang in her head – first she had thought it was her father; it sounded like when he had contacted her earlier – the Silent Brother pointed towards a square in front of the large table, it was made out of black marble and decorated with small silver stars.

Clary obeyed the Silent Brother's request and walked into the square. The other Shadowhunters did not follow; they had apparently heard the same thing as Clary.

_The council greets you, Clarissa Fairchild. _The voice called out in her head again. With an irritated sigh Clary corrected him, "Morgenstern." She wouldn't be associated with the Fairchilds. Not after everything that had happened.

_State your name. _He told her.

Clary laughed a mocking laughter. "Really? You just said my goddamn name?" There was not answer. "Fine! Clarissa Adele Morgenstern." said Clary with a heated voice. Something had made her head ache, and she did not want to find out what these Brothers could do if she angered them.

_We are going to ask you a few questions. _The voice in her head was dry and cold.

A Silent Brother came up to her with the silver sword in his hands. _You will be holding this, seeing as we cannot trust you will answer truthfully otherwise. _

Clary muttered something under her breath and stared up at the hooded Brother. "If you think I will submit to your stupid-" again her head ached painfully.

She looked up at the Silent Brother, his eyes were closed, but Clary had a strong feeling he could still see her. _We are going to make you answer these questions whether you surrender or not, but force is not needed as long as you collaborate. _

She felt her head began to burn, and her eyes watered. Clary blinked numerous of times to keep the salty water behind her eyes. "I would rather die than collaborate with such horrid creatures as you." She hissed. She couldn't keep the words from slipping through her lips.

The handcuffs that kept Clary's hands pressed together fell off and two Shadowhunters forced her hands open. "Stop!" Clary screamed as her head kept on hurting. It felt like it was about to crack open. Clary had once read that the Silent Brothers had the ability to crack a man's mind and send him into madness if they so desired, but Clary had never believed the statement until this moment.

Clary thrust her hands forward, palms up.

The Silent Brother laid the blade of the Soul-Sword flat across Clary's palms. One of the Shadowhunters on Clary's side made a small noise as the sword touched her skin.

The Silent Brother let the silver blade go and stepped back. Clary looked up at him in surprise. At this moment she was completely free. If she had a _stele_ she would be able to draw the perfect Five-Dimensional Door and escape once and for all. But she didn't.

_As I said, we didn't have to do this with force; we must employ the sword because you cannot be trusted to tell the truth otherwise. I will now ask you a series of questions and you will answer then. _

Of course she would answer them, she had no other choice.

_State your name. _

Clary groaned, "Are you for real?" She asked irritated. "Clarissa Adele Morgenstern."

_Where have you lived the past fifteen years? _

As she heard the words in her head she cringed. She couldn't answer this question, she would ruin her father. She couldn't tell the enemy where he was hiding.

"I lived in the Morgenstern manor." She told him, happy that she found a way across the answer he really wanted.

_With whom? _

She waited. She couldn't answer this question either, but this time she found no loophole. She waited with the answer; her fingers grew white as she pressed them against the blade. She felt the strong silver cut into her fingers, but the pain kept her secrets hidden a few more seconds. She breathed heavy and now she felt the words running out of her mouth.

"My father." Clary told the Silent Brother.

The Shadowhunters on either side of Clary stiffened.

_What is your father's name?_

"_Valentine Morgenstern." _The words were pulled from Clary against her will. She knew a few tears had fallen from her eyes, the pain in her fingers and her head was unbearable.

The next question came fast. _Did your father commit the slaughter of a werewolf pack and a vampire nest? _

It was easy to answer, "No."

_Did he have someone else do the killing for him, if so who? _

This was not as easy. "Yes, he is not alone. But I don't know who did the killing" was ultimately the answer. He had been ordering his men to create fear amongst the Downworlders, make it look like the Shadowhunters had given up the Accords, but Clary didn't know which he had sent.

_You are a powerful Shadowhunter Clarissa Morgenstern, we've seen that from the memories of our Nephilim, but tell me how. How did you get these powers?_

Clary set her mouth, but her lips were trembling. A moment later a torrent of words burst from her mouth. She was shaking and she held her eyes closed from the failed attempt to pull away from the sword. A moment later her eyes darted open in shock as she could hear the words running on her lips.

"I've always been a strong Shadowhunter, and throughout the years I've been taught by the best. You can possibly just imagine the difference between one of your lousy trainees and the powers of a Shadowhunter like me. You have no idea what you are sending your Nephilim out to fight. We've always been a strong race, but even your strongest will not compare to me. The blood that runs in your veins is not as strong as the blood in mine. You will never defeat the darkness that someone like me possesses. Demon blood is a much more deadly weapon than your angel blood, and with my father's help, I became that deathly weapon." a smirk formed on her lips as she saw the horror-struck faces of the Shadowhunters. They had obviously not expected her to tell them demon blood ran in her veins.

She waited for another question, her whole body shook from the last question and she could see drops of blood on the silver stars on the floor.

The Silent Brother had apparently told the others what to do, because the blade was lifted from her hands and cuffs were forced onto her wrists.

"I hope you're not afraid of the dark little Shadowhunter. You'll be spending some time in the darkest cells this world has to offer." and with that Clary was led out of the room with strong hands gripping her arms as she walked.

This time she would definitely be led down to the very lowest levels of the Silent City. The prison.

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So, this was quite a long chapter. I hope you liked it, because I really enjoyed writing it. Sorry for not letting Clary stay very long in the Institute, but I think the outcome of the Silent City will be just as good as if she had stayed at the institute.

Please tell me what you thought because I love reading your reviews. I'll update as soon as possible.


	12. Rescue mission

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Mortal Instrument series. Everything recognisable belongs to Cassandra Clare.

Sorry about making you wait so long, but it's been a lot of work at school with finals and all that.

Hope you like the chapter! And thanks for all the amazing reviews you gave me last chapter, it's the most chapters I've gotten on a chapter so far!

* * *

Dinner had been agonisingly long, and Jocelyn barely ate. Her eyes flickered to the clock ever so often. She wanted to check on Clary and see how she was doing, but Luke had told her that while Jonathan was with her she would be okay.

Jocelyn sat with Luke and their friends in the library when the door dashed open. They had been planning what to do with Clary. She had to be kept away from the Clave. If the other Shadowhunters found out Clary was still alive they would most likely begin questioning other things from that day as well, – it was widely known around the Shadowhunter-world about Valentine Morgenstern's death – and they didn't need another problem on their hands.

Jocelyn met the dark green eyes of her son. He had a furious expression written all over his face as he stormed towards the older Shadowhunters.

"Jonathan?" Luke's voice rang in the room.

"Is everything okay? Did Clarissa wake up?" asked Jocelyn unsure.

"How could you let them take her?" His voice was shaky and he stared around at the confused faces of the Shadowhunters.

"What? What are you talking about? How took how?" Jocelyn felt panic grow inside her and she shot up from her chair, the meeting completely forgotten.

"You..You didn't let them take her?" Jonathan asked bewildered. When no one replied Jonathan explained what had happened.

He spoke rather fast, but seeing the Shadowhunters faces whiten he knew they heard him.

"Where is Clary now?" Jocelyn dared ask.

"Inquisitor Herondale took her to the Silent City." he could see his mother swallow and tried to control her anger.

"Jonathan, are you sure my mother took Clary to the Silent City?" Stephen asked, it would not surprise him if she had, but he really hoped it wasn't the case.

"Yes."

xxxx

She didn't like cages. She had come quietly after they removed the Soul-Sword from her hands. She was still soaked in sweat from the horrible experience. Her head ached and her fingers continued bleeding. There hadn't been anyone willing to heal her and she had to heal the mundane way.

Clary had seen her father lock away people in the dark cells in their gigantic manor; she knew that even without the physical torture her father's men put the prisoners through, they would slowly turn crazy.

She had certainly never expected to spend her life in one of these cells. But lately, life seemed to throw her a lot of unexpected things.

She pressed her back against the cold stone wall. Darkness surrounded the large prison cells and Clary felt a shiver run up her arms as she glanced around at the other cells. She couldn't see anything in them.

She didn't know how long she'd stayed down in the creepy old cell when she heard metal hitting metal in a cold rattle. She saw one of the guardian Shadowhunters walking soundlessly toward her. His head was held high and his black hood was drawn over his head shielding his face from view.

"Hope you're enjoying your cell Morgenstern." he began and Clary could hear something slip under the metal bars. "You should eat slowly this is the only food you'll get today." Clary could hear the smug tone in his voice and looked at him with all the hate she could summon in her dizzy state.

"I thought asked for a three course meal." she replied and made no move towards the plate.

"Funny." the Shadowhunter said in a dry manner.

"I wasn't trying to be." Clary replied, but the man was already walking away.

xxxx

Weatherbee looked at his leader with fear. "She's been kept at the Silent City for the past eight hours and questioned under the Soul-Sword. She did not give away any important information." he stopped talking, cursing mentally at his next sentence.

"Except.. They.. They asked her about you." he shook his head at how stupid he sounded. "They asked if you were alive, and.. and she said yes."

Valentine sat still in his chair looking at the trembling young man in front of him. The man avoided Valentine's dark eyes with such force Valentine almost laughed.

"They know I am alive; good. It was only a matter of time before they found out on their own."

Weatherbee sighed with relief as he heard Valentine speak civilly.

"But the thing I wanted you to tell me Weatherbee, concerned not me, but my daughter." he spoke invectively. "So if you have nothing to tell me, I would rather you get out of my sight."

The man trembled visibly. "I..I don't know anything about Clarissa's condition sir. They are keeping her in one of the lowest cells in the Silent City and only the Silent Brothers and a few hand-picked Shadowhunters can get inside."

"Why did you not volunteer to be one of these so called 'hand-picked' Shadowhunters?" Valentine asked in a bitter manner.

"I.. It.. Eh, it doesn't work like that sir. I couldn't, they are the inquisitor's Shadowhunters." Weatherbee swallowed his words nervously.

"Then I don't see how you are useful anymore Weatherbee." the furious tone in Valentine's voice sent chills running down his back, he had never been spoken to in such raging manners.

The man's head snapped up in a laconic movement. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words escaped his parted lips.

"I'm sorry Valentine? W-what?" he asked shocked after waiting a long time trying to find the best words suiting the situation. He didn't find any.

"I don't think there is any need for me to repeat myself." said Valentine malevolent. "Blackwell!" he shouted before a big and burly man walked in. He had short reddish hair and his skin was dark purple and looked shiny on his cheekbones, like it was stretched too far. The man grabbed Weatherbee by the collar.

"You should know better than disappointing Valentine when he is in his _mood_ Weatherbee." Blackwell spoke quietly in the man's ear.

His voice lacked emotions, but the expression on his face was resentful.

Weatherbee knew this was one of Valentine's inner Circle members, and he also knew what would happen to himself when Blackwell dragged him out of the chamber.

xxxx

It had been a few hours since the guard had walked in and Clary felt languid. She didn't know when they would come back for her.

The plate with food the guard had brought her was still laying a few feet away from her. Clary's intransigent and obdurate behaviour kept her from touching the food. She was hungry. Her stomach yearned for something to stop the hunger, but she wouldn't dear eat something they had given her.

Clary thought of the ring giving her the ability to contact her father. She found her fingers closing around it on instinct.

Her father had not contacted her since the Institute, but sometimes she could swear she felt something tingle around the ring and a heat spread through the normally icy metal.

Clary did not try to summon him through the ring either, he had asked her not to, and she would never go against a direct order from her father.

xxxx

Jonathan had been sent out of the library after informing then about Clary's arrest. He had seen in both Jocelyn and Luke's eyes that they were out of their minds worried about his sister.

They had left to find Imogen soon after dismissing Jonathan and all the older Shadowhunter's were now in a heated discussion about Clary's whereabouts.

Jonathan had met up with Jace, Alec and Isabelle after wandering furiously through the Institute halls.

"What's turned you so sour this morning John?" Jace asked in his usual playful tone when he saw his friend walk in with a hard expression on his face.

"Not now Jace." Jonathan replied in a sharp tone. "I need your help." He said to the three other Shadowhunters as they carried on with whatever they had been doing before John came storming in.

"What? The mighty Jonathan Fairchild is in desperate need of our help?" joked Isabelle, before she met the distressed gaze Jonathan held and she stiffened immediately.

"Hey? What's wrong?" She asked more gently this time.

"I need your help breaking into the Silent City." he explained. He avoided the repudiating glances his friends sent his way and continued speaking, "I know it sounds crazy," "Crazy? Try foolhardy, reckless, and irresponsible and I don't know, illegal!" Isabelle cut him off.

"Hey, Izzy hear the guy out, it's not every day John is willing to break the law." said Jace with a smug grin on his face. Alec had kept quiet throughout the discussion, but a small smile cracked on his lips as his Parabatai spoke.

"They took Clary. She's in the Silent City and God knows what they're doing to her." Jonathan almost shouted at his stupid friends.

The three Shadowhunters turned a shade whiter after hearing Jonathan's exclamation.

Jace had informed the two Lightwoods about what had happened earlier, about Clary and her being Jonathan's supposedly dead sister.

"What do you mean they took her?" Alec asked carefully.

"They asked her gently if she would mind being dragged to the Silent City where she would be facing imprisoning and possibly questioning under the Mortal Sword. What do you think I mean Alec?" Jonathan's sarcastic voice rang in the air.

"Are you sure that's what they said?" Jace asked unsure.

"Yeah, I didn't mishear them. They said she was under suspicions of cooperating with.. with Valentine." Jonathan pressed out the name of his father with a timorous hateful voice.

"WHAT?" All three of the Nephilim asked shocked. "That's not possible." said Alec.

Jonathan didn't reply.

"Valentine is dead she couldn't be working with him." Isabelle completed Alec's sentence.

"So was Clary." Jonathan voice sounded almost like a whisper.

xxxx

Maggie looked up at her leader with a nervous smile. He had been acting ruthless the last few days and she knew that even she was on the tip of his dagger.

He stood silently gazing at the people standing around the room. They were all quietly discussing what to do before an obstreperous bang rang through the chamber.

"I know you are all waiting to hear what our next move will be. We are at war. The Clave have taken someone that belongs to us, and they will not get away without learning what they are getting themselves into." promulgated Valentine.

Nobody dared say anything as Valentine continued speaking in a strong voice that carried through the whole chamber.

"We will go to the Silent City and take back what is ours. Kill anything that comes in your way, I don't care how you do it as long as there are no signs of life left in the City as we leave." Valentine finished and he could detect the awed expressions of his followers.

Pangborn took a step forward with his head pointing towards the ground. "When will we attack?" He asked.

"Tonight." Valentine answered with a smug expression covering his face.

xxxx

"Ok, so we are just gonna storm the City and explode the goddamn cell she's in before taking her with us back here?" Jace asked with sarcasm filling every word.

"No. Of course we're not. We'll sneak in later tonight and try not to get caught. Then we'll improvise." Jonathan said with a shrug.

"Wow, that's probably the best plan you've ever had Johnny." Isabelle mocked.

"I don't know what else we can do. Our parents aren't doing anything useful, they just keep arguing with Inquisitor Herondale and the Council are sure as hell not going to do anything." Jonathan said in a frustrated tone. "And don't call me Johnny." he finished.

Isabelle cracked a small smile as she heard her friend speak.

"Fine, I'm in." She laughed as she saw Jonathan's shocked expression.

"You are?"

"Yeah, we're here to help each other right?" Izzy replied and gave him another reassuring smile.

"I'm in too. Nothing's better than a little adventure during the break." Jace agreed and looked hopefully towards his Parabatai.

Soon all eyes lay on Alec and he bit his lip nervously. He knew there was no point in trying to talk his friends out of this ridiculous rescue mission.

"God, fine. I'm coming as well. But if we get caught I'm selling all of you out." Joked Alec as he got up from his chair.

xxxx

Her face showed great fatigue as she sat leaning against the wall at the exact same place as before. She had tried to examine the prison to get the time to pass.

The cells were all identical; grey masonry and no windows. The iron-barred doors were thick and strong. Clary knew that nothing could possibly break through those bars, at least if they were normal.

She hated that there was no windows in the prison, of course it made sense; she was probably below ground and even if she wasn't there wouldn't have been windows here. Clary hated the isolating feeling she was felt with when they threw her in the cell; she hated not being able to tell if it was morning or night.

For all Clary knew she could've been here for days, but since she had only gotten one plate of food, she assumed it had only been hours.

Her cuts had begun healing a while ago, but the Mortal Sword had left deep wounds that had bled for hours. She looked at her skin and saw that the cold had started draining the colour out of her. She didn't feel the biting cold air anymore; it struck Clary that that might not be such a good sign.

Clary hated feeling vulnerable. She hated not being able to defend herself; and now she was in her most defenceless state.

As time ticked by slowly, Clary felt her eyelids became heavier and she had to fight to remain conscious.

Her head ached and she was shivering wildly from the cold air in the cell. Clary had fell into a fevered sleep; still sitting against the wall.

Her eyes flew up as she heard the sound of a door opening and closing swiftly. She didn't bother moving as it was probably the guard giving her breakfast or checking if she was still alive.

She heard hushed voices from the corridor of the prison. It was more than one voice, and it sounded familiar.

Clary's green eyes widened as she saw who it was; the shock that ran through her kept her from moving as the newcomers walked towards her cell with determination in their eyes.

* * *

So yeah, again sorry about the cliffhanger. I feel like I say that after every chapter. If you leave a review I'll update soon, like really soon..


	13. And run

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Mortal Instrument series. Everything recognisable belongs to Cassandra Clare.

So I promised you guys a fast update, and here it is. I hope you like it, there's a lot of things happening. Thanks for all the amazing reviews you are all wonderful.

Warning: Minor violence. I don't think it's that bad, just warning you because the story is T-rated.

* * *

Clary blinked a few times trying desperately to clear her view. Her fatigued had begun playing tricks on her mind; she wasn't really seeing the people in front of her. They had to be illusions.

"So how do we get her out?" a girl's voice asked the three other Nephilim standing before her.

"No idea." replied the Fairchild kid quietly.

Clary tried to move, but her aching head and cold body refused to cooperate. She closed her eyes and let out a pained moan.

"Clary?" Jonathan's voice rang in her ears; it sounded so real, but she did not reply.

"I think she's passed out. I wouldn't be surprised, it's freezing cold here!" the Herondale boy she had fought back in the Institute said a bit louder than the rest had spoken.

"Clarissa?" another unfamiliar voice spoke gently.

Clary looked up at the sound of her full name. They couldn't be illusions; she wasn't that crazy, not yet.

"What are you doing here?" she spat at the Shadowhunters.

"Wow, so much for saving your ass." the blond Shadowhunter said with a bitter laughter in his voice.

"Jace, shut up." the girl replied and moved towards the metal bars.

"Alec, give me my stele." she commanded the black haired boy and he handed her a silver twig with a sharp end that she pointed at the iron-barred cell door. She drew something, but Clary couldn't see what.

"Dammit." the girl muttered, "It's not working." she explained to the others as she stepped back from the cell.

Clary rolled her eyes, how stupid were these people? Clary forced her legs to respond to her messages and soon she was standing on shaky legs. "Of course it's not working." Clary said in a belligerent voice.

She had figured out the girl must've tried to use an _opening _rune on the bars.

Clary pressured herself to walk a few steps towards the Shadowhunters, but the pain in her body was unbearable. She almost passed out before she reached the bars.

Clary could hear the voices speaking quietly as she neared them, but while the pain continued she was not able to hear exactly what was being said.

Every part of Clary hurt like small knives were being thrown at her, her breathing was uneven and it stung every time she inhaled. She was probably catching a cold from the icy air in the cell.

"Give me your stele." Clary muttered, she knew how to open the cell, but needed the girl's stele to do so.

"No way!" Herondale said loudly, followed by Jonathan and the black haired guy's hushes.

"Sorry." he excused himself, "But you didn't see her with that stele, she can conjure a goddamn portal." he explained as the others looked at him with irritated eyes.

"Yeah, and did you see what happened? I wasn't exactly successful, was I?" she snapped at him, causing her throat to burn fiercely.

The guy muttered something and Clary could see the stele went through the iron bars. A smug smile lifted one side of Clary's lips upwards as she took the stele.

"What are you going to do?" the black-haired boy asked cautiously.

Clary didn't bother answering him as she leaned against the bars and pointed the stele at the metal. She drew swiftly with her right hand; the rune looked like an amplified version of the opening rune, but this actually worked.

They heard the faint sound of the cell opening and Clary let go of the stele as she had to steady herself to keep from falling.

Jonathan pushed open the cell-door and waited for his sister to walk out, except, she didn't.

"What do you think you're doing?" She said with a raspy voice.

"As Jace so kindly told you a few minutes ago, we're saving you." Jonathan explained.

"Saving _your ass_." Jace corrected with a whisper, before looking away from the older Shadowhunter.

Jonathan ignored him and gripped Clary's arm to help her walk. His sister jerked away as he touched her and almost fell backwards, "Don't touch me!" she hissed.

All four of the Shadowhunters looked dumbfound at the redheaded girl as she backed away in an awkward movement. She looked hurt, and in the faint light from the corridor they could see her hands being smudged with red blood.

"Clary." Jonathan pleaded as he took another step towards her.

"Don't." that syllable alone could've stopped wars; replete of power.

They stood in silence for a long time before Isabelle sighed irritated. "Okay, I don't know what your deal is, but we just risked our lives to come here and get you out so I would appreciate if you could at least act like you want our help."

"That's the point. I do not want your help. I can fend for myself." Clary answered resentfully.

"Obviously." The Herondale boy replied sarcastically, making Clary glower back at him.

If Clary had been in better shape she would've walked away from them a long time ago, but truth was that she kind of needed their help. Not that she would ever admit it.

She took two steps toward the cell-door and pushed it open wider, supporting herself with the bars.

With every step she took her vision flashed white and she felt a stabbing pain in her body, she was unable to detect exactly where it came from, seeing as her whole body ached. She forced herself not to show the pain she was in, her father had always told her not to show weakness when in the presence of the enemy. Anything they picked up could be used against her.

The four Shadowhunters watched as Clary walked away from them, they all stood still for a few minutes before Izzy acted and moved towards her stele. She picked it up and motioned for the three others to follow.

They walked in silence, both because they had to make sure they weren't caught and because they didn't know what to say. Clary certainly wasn't in the mood for small talk.

They were walking up one of the marble stairs when they heard it. A gruesome slashing sound; like something cutting through human flesh. The only thing that missed was the scream, the sound that indicated pain was not there.

All five of the Nephilim stiffened. They listened closely as another gruesome sound escaped the other room.

Clary had heard that sound before, she knew what was happening. Someone was attacking, and she guessed it was the Silent Brothers who suffered.

She thought of the possibility that it might be her father, but that would be too reckless of him. He wouldn't do that.

It was complete silence after that. The attackers had moved on.

Clary walked further up the stairs, each step made her feel like she was on the verge of passing out.

Her breath was hard and she inhaled and exhaled loudly. Every breath burning her throat like someone pressed a hot iron rod down her gullet.

The others whispered something back and forth about helping the Silent Brothers, but they couldn't risk it. They had no idea what had happened, or if someone actually had attacked or if it was just some Silent Brother stuff that happened.

They kept walking; the large marble arches high above their heads as they walked. Nobody said anything for a long time as they stumbled through the corridors.

Clary moved her hand up to her neck, her fingers met with the cold metal of the ring. She wondered if he would've called out for her if he was here to help her. _Yes, he definitely would. _She thought as she walked.

Clary almost stopped walking as a thought occurred to her. The gold ring had not flared up in the same way it had in the institute. It hadn't left her skin tickling with heat or given away the calming sense of her father's presence. It was just cold. Ice-cold.

What if it was not working while she was in the Silent City, she couldn't know for sure what powers the City held. What if-

Her rambling thoughts were disturbed when she felt her legs slip under her. The Herondale boy, Jace, or whatever his name was, caught her before she hit the marble floor. He muttered something about balance before Clary pushed away from him.

She felt her feet glue to a viscous liquid smeared on the floor. Even if she hadn't seen the colour of the liquid, she would've recognised the smell. The metallic smell filled her nostrils and she looked down at her feet.

They were standing in blood. The whole archway was flooded with a thin layer of crimson blood. She heard the black-haired girl gasp in shock as she too stepped in the pool of blood.

The fallen body of a Silent Brother lay a few feet away from them, his hood had fallen from his shaved head and his eyeless face was pale and horrid. Clary looked at the large, deep cut in his throat indicating the attacker had slit his throat.

"It's Brother Jeremiah." Alec said plainly.

Nobody answered him, but the silence that lingered in the air was soon interrupted by a door closing in the end of the hall.

Clary's heart began racing wildly in her chest. If these attackers were able to kill Silent Brothers without problems they would have no problem killing her in the state she was in at the moment.

She heard one of the four other Shadowhunters whisper "Run." and even as much as she hated the whole group, she ran.

Her adrenaline kept the pain from taking over her body. She felt the stabbing pain, but still kept her legs running. They pushed up the last steps of the stairs as another loud sound escaped behind them.

Clary saw the opening to the graveyard ahead of her; the last few steps were the worst. She had never felt such excruciating pain before. She knew that even with her extra powers, she would pass out the moment she stopped running. She couldn't last longer on her feet.

They reached the top, the night sky shone black and silver down at them; illuminating the gravestones and ground in a ghostly resemblance.

Clary felt someone hand her something heavy. She could barely close her fingers around it.

It was the black-haired girl's stele.

She could hear instructions being thrown at her, and if Clary had not been in a semiconscious state already, she would definitely not cooperate with the other four. But now, she just wanted to get away from the Silent City.

Miraculously she managed to draw the strenuous rune.

She heard footsteps coming slowly up the staircase as the rune began forming the brilliant iridescent portal. She wanted to close her eyes as the conflagration of colours emitted bright light that stung her tired eyes.

Before she passed out she saw the acerbic face of Valentine Morgenstern. She knew she had yelled his name; she had tried to wrestle out of the Fairchild's tight grip as she saw her father standing before her. His face was stone-cold and blood –not his– was slashed down his cloths.

xxxx

As soon as the four Shadowhunters jumped through Clary's portal –Jonathan had carried Clary through it– they were ambushed by half a dozen people dressed in black.

They had all been lead to different interrogation rooms in the Institute. Clary had been taken to the infirmary, where both Jocelyn and Luke had made sure no one could take her away again. She was in extremely bad shape when they had brought her, and Luke had to physically hold Jocelyn away from the Inquisitor as she had entered the infirmary.

"You had no right to take my daughter away from the Institute Imogen." said Jocelyn angry.

"I am the Inquisitor Jocelyn; I had every right to do so. Clarissa was under the suspicion of working with Valentine Morgenstern, and seeing as we were completely right, I think I did the Clave a great favour."

"Your actions lead to five dead Silent Brothers, does that not mean anything to you?" Jocelyn almost screamed the words at her.

Imogen looked at the middle-aged woman with unreadable eyes. "Of course it means something. Valent-" Jocelyn interrupted the Inquisitor, "I don't care about Valentine, what I care about is you trying to kill my daughter!"

Jocelyn wished she had accepted when Luke asked to come with her, instead she had insisted he stayed with Clary. Jocelyn felt her temper rise every time the other woman spoke.

"We never had the intentions of killing her. She did that to herself Jocelyn." at hearing Imogen speak she inhaled deeply.

"You can't be serious Imogen." she said quietly before turning around angry, "Stay away from Clarissa!" She raised her voice and walked back into the infirmary.

xxxx

Jace sat leaned back in a hard, uncomfortable chair. The only other pieces of furniture in the room were a table and another chair. The walls were grey and it looked nothing like the other rooms in the Institute.

These rooms were rarely used, but today, with four rebellious teenagers and one unconscious prisoner landing outside the Institute after a distress call from the Silent City; it put things on another level.

"Okay Herondale." The Shadowhunter called out for him as he walked through the door. As he sat down his eyes met Jace's.

"I'm going to ask you a few questions. Nothing to be afraid of as long as you answer truthfully." he told Jace. Jace glanced at him with an irritated look in his eyes.

"I'm not afraid, more offended by your rudeness and bad-mannered behaviour. I've been waiting an hour." he saw in the eyes of the Shadowhunter that his words provoked him.

"Okay." he simply replied before starting with the questions, "Can you answer a few questions without the usual level of Herondale sarcasm?"

"Depends, can you ask the questions without the usual level of imbecility." Jace replied with a smug smile.

The Shadowhunter ignored him and began asking, "When and why did you leave the Institute today, and can you tell me what happened when you entered the Silent City?"

"As I am sure the others have already told you, we left around ten PM to help Jonathan's sister, who was taken from the Institute to the Silent City a few hours earlier. When we came there, it was quiet and fairly easy to enter the prison."

The next part they had agreed on lying about, "We used a normal opening rune, which indicate you should obviously upgrade your security systems, to open her cell."

"At first nothing struck us as abnormal, but when we came to higher levels of the City we heard something, didn't think much about it, it lasted only for a few seconds."

"What did you hear?" he asked Jace.

"It was like a cutting sound, like someone cutting through paper." "When we got to the last staircase we found Brother Jeremiah lying with his throat slit on the floor." Jace said; shuddering as the sight crossed before his eyes.

"And what happened once you reached the cemetery?"

"Valentine Morgenstern and his men came and we barely got away." Jace explained shielding his emotions from the Shadowhunter.

It was a long silence before Jace spoke again, "Can I go now?"

"Just one more question. What did Clarissa Morgenstern do when this incident happened?"

"What incident? The one with Valentine?" Jace asked surprised.

The Shadowhunter nodded and looked at Jace's reaction.

"Eh- I don't know. She didn't do much, she was in a bad state, could barely stand on her own." Jace replied honestly.

"So she didn't.. she didn't.." the Shadowhunter seemed lost of words.

"Did she run to her father as soon as he showed up? No." Jace said irritated, he had assumed the question would appear. "She didn't." Jace didn't know exactly why he defended her; she would've probably run straight to Valentine if Jonathan hadn't forced her into the portal. But Jace didn't want them to know that. Maybe he felt guilty for stabbing her in the neck? He didn't know.

xxxx

Iwan sat with his friend in his room. Max was reading some cartoon Iwan couldn't care less about at the moment. He sat nervously on his bed and waited for the others to finish.

"Can you stop with that?" Iwan snapped at Max.

Max looked up from the manga and gave his friend a questioning look, "Stop with what?"

"Stop reading, you act like you don't care at all." he called back and got up from the bed.

"I care, but it's not like sitting quietly tapping my foot against the bed and sweating nervously is going to help anyone." he replied.

"I don't do that." Iwan argued.

"You do."

"Whatever. We should find out how things are going." Iwan walked toward the bedroom door and opened it carefully. He had gotten the clear message of staying in his room with Max while the others were questioned.

"We can't they said-" began Max. "I don't care what they said, if my brother is in trouble I want to know!" Iwan almost shouted at his best friend.

Max shrugged and with a loud sigh, he followed Iwan out the door.

"What do we do if they catch us?" Max asked nervously as they crept down the hall. They saw five unfamiliar Shadowhunters standing around the hall; it had never been so many strangers in the Institute at once before. There were at least two Shadowhunters in all the large rooms of the Institute.

They walked further down the hall and stopped when a familiar voice rang from a closed door.

Both boys pressed their ears against the door and listened.

"You can't do that." Stephen Herondale exclaimed loudly.

"Of course I can Stephen." Imogen told her son irritated.

"He's your grandson!" Celine shot at the Inquisitor and Iwan felt a lump form in his stomach as he heard the angry voices shout at one another.

"And my grandson broke the law." She said stiffly. "I am sorry Stephen, the Law is hard, but it is the Law."

"By the angel, bend it, you are the Inquisitor mother." Stephen's angry voice rang through the door.

"I am sorry." Imogen replied once again.

Iwan and Max shared confused glances mixed with fear. What was happening?

They listened closely as Iwan's grandmother spoke up again, and what Iwan heard shocked him. He backed away from the door and turned to the hallway as a voice called out for him.

"Iwan, what are you guys doing?" Jace asked as he walked towards them with a tired expression.

Iwan jumped at how exhausted his brother sounded, and without thinking his emotions reacted for him. He ran up to his brother and hugged him tightly.

"Okay? This is weird. I can't remember you ever hugging me before." Jace laughed as the boy crashed into his torso.

"They're expelling you!" Iwan said angry as he backed away awkwardly.

"What? Who?" his brother replied surprised.

"The Clave, they are expelling you and Izzy." he answered.

"Expelling us? They can't, we've explained ourselves. They can throw us out, what are they thinking?" Jace asked, fear showing in his voice.

Iwan shook his head, unable to answer.

"I don't wanna go alone." Iwan told him after a long silence.

Jace seemed lost as he looked at his brother. He looked like he was about to storm the room where their parents and grandmother had the meeting.

"Wait..What?" Jace asked quietly.

"To the Academy." Iwan replied confused.

"Am I getting expelled from the Academy?" Jace laughed.

"Yeah, what did you think I meant?" Iwan replied even more confused than earlier.

"God, you can't scare me like that Iwan, I thought you meant they threw us out of the goddamn Clave." Jace explained with a smile on his lips.

Jace patted his brother on the back and laughed and before the door opened and two angry parents walked out, they all rushed away from the hall into their rooms.

* * *

Please leave a review telling me what you thought. I'll try to update before City of Heavenly Fire, but I don't know how much time I'll get.


	14. Dream of the damned

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Mortal Instrument series. Everything recognisable belongs to Cassandra Clare.

Can I just say wow, I don't know if you've read CoHF yet, and if you haven't, you're in for a roller-coaster of emotions and I can only say good luck. To everyone who has read the new book, I hope you are okay.

I wanted to say that I will not be introducing CoHF stuff in this fan fiction for a while, giving all of you time to read the book. I don't want to spoil anything.

Again, thanks so much for all your wonderful reviews, they are really inspiring and makes it easy to keep on writing.

* * *

The dream began with the sound of wings. Clary had never had such a dreadful feeling build up inside her stomach; it felt like someone had punched her a million times and felt her to die on the grounds. Except, she was not lying on the ground.

Clary stood on a large, sloping hill, her feet bare, and the grass tickling her toes. The sky was painted perfectly blue, with a pinkish line at the rim. She could see small, white clouds patched to the blueness of the sky like stickers. Unnatural.

The purity of the landscape sent yet another unnerving sensation through her spine.

Clary had never been here before, she had never seen something quite as beautiful as the green and blue shades forming around her.

There it was again. The loud flapping sound of wings.

It was not a bird's wings. This was something bigger. Something dangerous.

A demon that resembled a huge bird flew over Clary's head. It was an ugly, flying creature. With wide, leathery wings and a bony triangular head pointed towards the hill where Clary stood. As it came closer and closer Clary could see its mouth, full of rows upon rows of serrated shark teeth.

The demon's body angled towards Clary and she reached to grab her sword when she realised it was not there. She had no weapons at all. Defenceless.

Clary tried to force her body to run. But like in her last dream she found her legs stuck to the ground.

The demon came closer, but before it collided with her body, Clary saw another dark shaped winged creature fly next to the horrid looking demon. They all came fast, one after the other. All leathery skinned and thin. They let out a cry, it sounded like a mix between laughter and pleasure screams.

Clary felt the hair on her arms stand up from her skin and she wanted to scream as well.

The demons were so close Clary could see all their features clearly now. She wanted to close her eyes, but it was like an invisible force kept them open.

A red and orange colour started erupting in the demons mouths. It resembled the autumn leaves falling from the trees outside. Clary froze.

The blending colours of the winged demons came shooting towards Clary, it burned hot in her face and Clary realised soon what was happening. The dream had turned into a nightmare. The flames came flying at Clary's frozen body. She was unable to get away.

And just as the flames touched her skin, she awoke.

She could feel sweaty hair clinging to her forehead and her skin was burning hot. She opened her eyes and looked around the room, her eyes adjusting to the dim light in the room. Clary could detect a silhouette standing a few feet away when she spoke.

"Clary. Clary are you okay? You look horrible." a concerned voice rang in her ears.

First Clary thought of Maggie, her sweet ageless voice who always spoke in such careful manners.

No, this was not Maggie. This was someone else. Someone Clary didn't know.

The blond female Shadowhunter looked down at Clary with large eyes filled with concern. "Here." she handed Clary a cup of something hot, most likely tea, judging from the bitter smell "You should drink some. You might have a fever after being kept in that cold cell for so long." the voice told her as Clary put the cup aside without looking directly at the woman who spoke.

Clary didn't reply. She met the blue eyes of the woman and recognized her as the parabatai of Jocelyn Fairchild. Another Herondale.

Clary sighed and sent the woman a hateful glare. "You can leave." she told Celine and looked around the room. Clary was in the same room she had been in when the Inquisitor had taken her to the Silent City, or at least a replica of the room.

"Ok." Celine didn't protest and got up from the chair she had been sitting in. A disappointed look upon her face. "But I really think you should drink that tea. It is supposed to settles the stomach and concentrate your mind." the fair voice spoke in Clary's ears.

"I don't like tea." Clary said stubbornly with an irritated voice. She began to rise from the bed she was lying in. She couldn't remember being moved from the infirmary.

Celine nodded her head carefully before leaving the room with a small click as the door closed behind her.

Clary looked around the room; it was a small room with four-poster wooden bed in the centre of the room. There was a small square wardrobe and a red chair standing in the corner.

She sighed annoyed as the memories of the last night enfolded her mind, or was it longer ago? She didn't really know.

She still couldn't believe her father would risk so much to get her back, he had exposed himself to the Shadowhunter-world. He had made all doubt about Clary's words clear. Valentine Morgenstern was alive. And he was planning war.

There was a small knock on the door and someone opened it slowly. Clary looked towards the door, before looking down at herself. She was still wearing the ugly oversized, pink sweater and dark jeans as she had been before they took her to the Silent City. Now a bit bloodied and ripped, but still the same clothes.

"Clary." the voice had an uncertainty in it that made Clary smirk.

She didn't bother answering Jocelyn, who walked into the room with the light steps of a Shadowhunter.

"Clary I just wanted to talk to you." she called out to Clary, who picked up a book lying on the table.

When Clary didn't answer Jocelyn continued, "We've spoken to the Clave, and you are permitted to stay in the New York Institute under the observation of the New York Conclave."

Clary turned around with a small laughter playing on her lips, "How are you going to do that? What makes you think I will stay here? I can easily get-"

Clary was cut off by Jocelyn's voice, "I am sorry, but we had to perform a spell on you, it was the only way the Clave would accept our request. We got a warlock to perform a spell which will keep you within the Institute at all times and only when a specific mark is placed upon one of the Institutes residents they are allowed to take you outside. I wish there was another way, but-"

Clary looked at the woman in sheer hatred, "You did what?" she yelled at Jocelyn.

"I am really sorry Clary, it was the only way. Most of the Clave wanted you imprisoned." Jocelyn rushed to explain.

"Don't call me that." Clary snapped, anger rising inside her to the point where she no longer controlled herself. "I would rather be imprisoned than live with you and your Shadowhunters."

Clary could see the muscles in Jocelyn's jaw tense and wondered if she fought to keep herself calm just as much as Clary did.

"If there was anything I could do to make it better I would, but right now I don't have any other choices." Jocelyn said calmly.

"Of course." replied Clary with blazing eyes. "Of course you would." Clary brushed her own cheek and let her hand slip through her tangled hair.

"Just leave me alone." Clary replied angry after an awkward silence.

xxxx

"I can't believe they would do something like that. I mean, actually I can, but I would've hoped your grandmother could prevent it." said Isabelle in a tired voice as the four Shadowhunters sat carelessly in Jace's room.

"I mean, they never throw people out of the Academy. Everyone finishes their training at the Academy if they don't train at the local Institute, but come on, who wants to do that?" Izzy continued as the others sat silently doing their own things.

"Hey!" she raised her voice, "Are you even listening?"

"No, I think we all stopped listening after the first time you said you would not be as brilliant if you had to train here at the Institute. But really Izzy, I don't think it will do much of a difference. You will always be second." Jace replied nonchalant.

"Ha-ha, very funny Jace." Isabelle called out and got up from the chair she sat in.

"I mean it! We all know who's got the best techniques, and it's not the black-haired, vampire-dating Shadowhunter with a scary gold-whip." Jace said with a hint of his accent pressing thought his voice.

"You're just scared I will become better than you. And I am not dating a vampire." She replied with a huff.

"Fine, what do you call the bloodsucker if he is not-" Jace began, but was cut off by his parabatai sending him an irritated glare.

"Will you two quit it?" asked Alec, a book with Latin engravings on the cover open in his lap.

Both Isabelle and Jace looked at each other and Jace sent the raven-haired girl a smug smile before mouthing, '_still better'_ towards her. Isabelle replying with a pillow thrown hard through the air.

While the others spoke, Jonathan sat quietly on the four-poster bed of his friend, legs crossed and deep in thoughts.

xxxx

Clary pushed the bedroom door open. She had never been to an Institute, -at least if she didn't count the brief visit after falling through a roof- even though she'd read about them.

And whatever she had read in those many books in her private library, the New York Institute was nothing like she had imagined. It was beautiful.

The walls were made of dark wood and stretched high above her head. She saw the beautiful chandelier with large crystal-like lights covering it, illuminating the hall. All the doors around Clary confused her; they were very similar, all dark with the same silver doorknob.

She must've been in the residential wings of the Institute. It was supposed to be around two hundred bedrooms in the residential wings, open to Shadowhunters who wish to take up residence there, or like Clary, were forced to live there.

She walked down a set of stairs, surprised by how light she felt, nothing like when she had been kept in the cell at the Silent City. When she reached the bottom of the stairs she heard voices speak inside a room with a door set ajar.

The voices grew silent and suddenly the door banged open startling Clary to the point where she almost lost balance. A roughly built Shadowhunter in black gear rose before her and she could see on his face that he too had been surprised by the encounter.

"Morgenstern." His voice was clear, but it held a bitter undertone. The man seemed familiar, but Clary didn't know from where.

The man opened his mouth to speak when yet another Shadowhunter came inside dressed in the same gear as the man before Clary. The black gear looked like some sort of guardian gear; black jacket zipped up to the collar with the insignia for the Clave formed by four back-to-back C's standing for: the Clave, Council, Covenant and Consul printed over the heart.

"Ah, Clarissa just the girl we were looking for." said the man with a cold voice.

Clary looked at him; he had a thin body and his dark hair was slicked backwards. He had a light accent and from what Clary could analyse, he did neither look nor sound American.

She sent the man a venoms glare as he grabbed her upper arm. The larger Shadowhunter led the way through the door, while the foreign Shadowhunter held his grip firmly as he dragged Clary with him.

Clary began to struggle against the grip, but stopped when they came inside the room. It was a fairly small room with only a table placed in the middle. Jocelyn Fairchild, Lucian Graymark, both Herondales and Maryse Lightwood sat around the table. There were also other Shadowhunters there, but Clary had never seen them before.

"Please take a seat Clarissa." said Luke in a friendly voice.

Clary made no move towards any of the unoccupied chairs, and the European Shadowhunter pushed Clary hard, forcing her towards the nearest chair.

"Balogh." Jocelyn was on her feet and stared angry at the Hungarian Shadowhunter. "Let her go." she commanded and soon Clary was free from the Shadowhunter's tight grip.

"Clary if you could please take a seat." Surprise hit Clary when Jocelyn called her by her nickname, again, a mixture of anger and hurt followed as Clary looked at her.

"I think I'll pass." she told her and remained standing.

It was an awkward silence in the room before Maryse Lightwood raised her voice and looked directly into Clary's green eyes. They were so much like her mother and brother's bottle green eyes.

"We have some important information for you Clarissa." Maryse said.

"I don't really think I'll care." Clary replied pushing her hair into a high ponytail.

"I think you will care about this." One of the unfamiliar Shadowhunters told her with a smug smile on her lips.

"You have understood what we've informed you about our methods of keeping you safe inside the Institute, am I right?" Maryse asked.

"Safe?" Clary replied sarcastically, "I wouldn't call forcing me into this prison safe."

Maryse ignored her and continued, "You will be able to walk freely inside the Institute, with the exception of the training room and weapons room. We will have guards from the Clave positioned around the Institute at all times and if you should.." she stopped mid-sentence, searching for the right words, "try something they will not hesitate to restrain you. Is that clear?"

Clary smirked at her choice of words, _try something, _it sounded like a better way of saying _"If you try to kill one of our residents we will kill you back." _

"Perfectly." Clary replied irate and was about to leave when Maryse continued, "You may ask to be accompanied by one of the permanent householders, including myself and my husband Robert," she pointed towards the roughly built Shadowhunter she had almost walked right into earlier. "To leave the Institute grounds, but you are not able, due to the spell performed by the High Warlock of Brooklyn, to leave without permission."

Clary had already heard this, and again it brought her temper up. "How are you going to keep my father form turning up here?" Clary asked with a self-satisfied smile tugging at the corners of her lips. The reactions around the table was pleasing, they all seemed shocked with Clary's words for a moment.

"He won't." Another Shadowhunter told her, glowering darkly at the redheaded girl. "But it's not like we'll tell you how."

"Hmm." Clary smiled falsely in the man's direction and leaned against the chair next to her.

"You listen here, if you think I for one second will accept this absurd punishment, you are all wrong. You fear I will maim or kill your Clave members, first of all if that doesn't say something about your bravery, I don't know, and second you are right. I don't care about Shadowhunters. I don't follow your Covenant and Accords, so please if this is some sort of test, you can just fail me right now, because you are right, I won't hesitate to kill one of yours." Clary breathed heavier after finishing, her fever was still high and it had begun draining her strength.

"This is not a test in any sort of way Clarissa. This is just a second chance." Robert Lightwood replied.

Clary cast Jocelyn a short glance, seeing her shocked expression. She seemed hurt by Clary's words and for a moment it confused Clary, but she pushed the thoughts away.

"A second chance? Shadowhunters don't give second chances." Clary shot back at him frustrated.

"Would you rather we strip you of your Marks?" Balogh asked harshly in his Hungarian accent.

"I'd like to see you try." Clary replied and pushed away from the chair before Maryse replied shortly, "You won't try to kill the people living here." she spoke calmly and with a small unreadable smile dancing on her lips.

Clary looked at her with burning eyes, "What?"

"You might have drops of demon blood in your veins Clarissa, but the Angel Raziel's blood is still dominant and I believe you are not all that evil." the calmness of her voice made Clary gaze darkly at the woman. _What was she talking about?_

"You may leave." Maryse finished and picked up a pencil lying on the table in front of her.

Clary stared at the woman in disbelief, but when she did not speak up again and neither did anyone else, Clary left.

xxxx

Clary splashed a handful of water onto her face. Her fever had gotten worse after leaving the meeting and she tried to ease the pain by cooling her forehead down. It didn't work.

"Damn it. I don't deserve this." Clary muttered irritated as she turned the sink off and walked carelessly out of the room's en suit. Her fingers connected with the chain of the fairy ring around her neck and she played with the cold metal. It had not flared up with heat since she had entered the Silent City, and Clary had started wondering if something had broken it.

She rubbed her temples lightly, before walking to the door and opening it silently.

Maryse Lightwood hadn't lied; the Institute was full of Shadowhunters in black gear.

Clary's stomach ached as well as her head, pushing her headache to grow worse; it was like a hammer tried to punch through her skull. She hadn't eaten in a long time, actually she couldn't remember the last time she had a proper meal.

Clary found her way down the hall, walking past the tense Shadowhunters eyeing her every move, around a corner and pushed the door open. She had been informed that this was the kitchen.

The kitchen was considerably large and well-put together, but Clary had no idea where to find anything.

"No John, I have already told you a million times, I am not dating a vampire!" A girly voice rang from the other side of the room, and Clary saw the same black haired girl who had forced Clary back to the Institute, and her own brother, Jonathan Fairchild.

"I'm not the one saying it. Jace is the one you should be screaming at, not me." Jonathan replied with a boyish grin.

"Hey." another voice rang from a smaller room next to them, "Don't tell her that, I'm the one who's got to train with her for another year."

Clary walked further into the Kitchen, pretending not to see them as she opened a door to one of the cabinets.

Clary realised they had seen her. They all fell silent and Clary could hear low murmurs passing between the friends.

"If you are looking for the refrigerator, it's in there." the blond Herondale boy told her, pointing his finger at the room he had just left.

"I wasn't." Clary replied, pulling down a plate.

They stared at her for a long time, before Clary turned around and met the dark green eyes of Jonathan. "Is something wrong?" she asked harshly as she noticed how they all stared at her.

"No." The girl replied. "I guess I've not introduced myself properly." she continued and walked towards Clary with determined steps. "I'm Isabelle Lightwood." she held out her hand for Clary to shake, but Clary just frowned and stared back at the girl.

She heard the girl whisper an awkward "Okey," and pulling her hand back.

"Yeah, and I guess our meeting wasn't the greatest either, hhu Ariel. I'm Jace Herondale, sorry about stabbing you in the neck." Jace said from the other end of the room, not bothering walking over to Clary.

"Oh, and sending you through a falling building. Not my proudest moment." He added with a swooning smirk.

Clary glared dangerously back at him before Jonathan asked carefully. "Clarissa, or Clary, have you been wearing those clothes for four days?"

The pink sweater was dirty and smeared in blood, and the dark blue jeans she had put on in the infirmary a few days earlier were ripped on the knees.

Without thinking, Clary found herself answering her brother, "Yeah, I guess I have." she replied with a shrug, suddenly feeling self-conscious about her own appearance. She wasn't used to other people on her age being in her presence, and on one had ever stared at her with the same analysing gazes the three teenagers had.

Shortly after replying, Clary regretted it.

It wasn't as if they couldn't guess the answer themselves, but it thought of admitting it was worse, she didn't want to interact with the Shadowhunters, and now she had engaged in a conversation.

"You know, you could borrow something of mine." Isabelle told Clary with a careless shrug.

"You're not exactly my size, but I guess I've probably got something." she explained and tried to give Clary an encouraging smile, which was not returned.

"Whatever." said Clary irritated and put the plate down on the bench before following the raven-haired girl out of the kitchen, her stomach still burning with hunger.

xxxx

"Let me see, I've mostly got black." Isabelle called out from the other side of the room as she dug through her wardrobe for something small that could fit Clary's short, slim body.

Clary looked at the other Shadowhunter girl and saw she had about the same amount of faint white scars on her body as Clary. Her skin was pale and with her long coal-black hair it made the rune-scars stand out even more fiercely.

"I think this can fit you." Isabelle shouted loudly as she threw Clary a black tank top and a pair of blue jeans. The jeans looked like they would curl a little bit in the legs, but other than that it looked somewhat okay.

Clary walked into the girl's bathroom and slipped the top over her head. It fitted. As predicted, the jeans were a bit too big, but Clary made it work.

When she came outside again Isabelle had put on a pair of black high heels and walked towards the door. "Great, you can thank me later." she smiled and opened her bedroom door.

Her heels made a loud clicking noise as she walked and Clary couldn't understand how someone who was already so tall would want to go around making themselves that much taller. It couldn't be beneficial when it came to fighting, or walking for that matter.

"There's food in the kitchen if you want some." Isabelle told Clary as she walked back towards where they had left Jace and Jonathan.

"You don't say." Clary replied sarcastically and followed the girl with irritated steps.

"I meant Alec, my brother, he ordered food from Taki's while you were changing and the food is in the kitchen if you want some." Isabelle explained and opened the door to the kitchen.

The smell that hit Clary when she walked in was fantastic, it might've been because of the lack of food she had consumed the past four days, but it made Clary's stomach roar.

Jonathan tried to give his sister a short smile, which again wasn't returned. "Are you hungry?" he asked carefully as he sat down on the kitchen counter. "There's plenty of food if you want some."

Clary shrugged and took the plate of food that was handed to her. She remained standing as she ate slowly, not daring to eat any faster, in case her body couldn't handle it.

She heard the four Shadowhunters speak casually with each other and tried to block them out as her headache grew every time one of them spoke louder than usual.

"So, what did Iwan say after you explained the whole Academy thing?" Alec asked his parabatai.

"Nothing, he's really.. I don't know, upset I guess." Jace replied.

"Mhm, Max took it fairly well actually. I don't think he likes me that much. He obviously likes you better." Isabelle stated as she stuffed her mouth with the take-away food.

"Can't blame him, he's got to have someone to look up to you know, and while you keep wearing those high heeled boots of yours, you're not going to beat me." Jace mocked the tall girl.

"Oh just wait and see Herondale, you have no idea what a dangerous weapon seven inches of sharp footwear can do to a person." Isabelle smirked.

Clary grew tired of their silly, childish conversations and walked out of the room with a barely detectable sigh, leaving the four Shadowhunters looking after her with bemused expressions.

"She is a little bit weird, don't you think?" Jace asked after the last piece of red hair had vanished around the corner.

* * *

That's it for now, I think I gave you a pretty long chapter. Thanks for keeping up with me and I really hope you take the time to review the chapter, it really means a lot to me.

See all of you soon with another chapter.


	15. Drop the façade

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Mortal Instruments series. Everything recognisable belongs to Cassandra Clare.  
What Clary reads is taken from the Shadowhunters Codex written by Cassandra Clare and Joshua Lewis.

I think this can be considered a fast update, right?

And I hear you guys, you want Clace! So I've tried to give you some of it, probably not exactly what you wanted, but it's important for the rest of the story. Please just bear with me.

* * *

The next two weeks passed slowly. Clary had kept to herself most of the time, only being interrupted by either Jocelyn or Jonathan asking her simple questions, "Are you hungry?", "Did you sleep well?", "Is there something you need?".

Clary continued her routine of not answering.

Clary sat in one of the comfortable chairs in the library with an old copy of _The Shadowhunter's Codex. _There was no reason for Clary to actually read the book; she basically knew it by heart now. Her father had always pushed her to read books, all types of books. _The Gray Book_, books describing both Shadowhunter and Downworlder lives and natures, fighting techniques.

Her father's words rang in her ears, "Clarissa, fighting is not the only superior advantage you have." She remembered asking him what he meant, "Knowledge. If you have knowledge, you have power."

That was all it took, it sometimes surprised Clary how easily affected she was by his words.

The _Codex _lay open in her lap, on a passage about the magical Wards. She had to Clary's relief received another 'call' from her father. He had informed her that they were studying the wards placed around the Institute from its centre, Wrangel Island. They couldn't enter the Institute because of the wards placed around, Clary didn't know exactly what they'd done, but it kept intruders from entering, even those possessing Nephilim blood.

Clary had gotten a witchlight, which enlightened the place around her. The new wards placed around the Institute had left most of the Institute in darkness. Only the kitchen and training room was given powers. This didn't really bother Clary, when she was at home in Morgenstern Manor the powerful misdirection wards and protection wards kept the whole manor without power, forcing them to rely on witchlights and Clary's useful runes to keep the place going.

Clary was deep into the books pages, 'Wards are the simplest magic we know of, other than glamours. All Shadowhunter wards are pale reflections of the great wards of our world, the protections that largely prevent demons from entering.' Clary scanned the page quickly.

'Wards exist at all levels of power. Today wards can be quite complex, and specific as to who is warded and who is allowed through.' Clary sighed. She already knew all of this and after reading it over a few times she turned the page.

"Trying to find a way out?" a voice behind her rang in her ears.

Clary closed the book and turned her head, looking up at Jace Herondale. He was wearing a pale blue shirt, the sleeves rolled carelessly up barely covering his elbows, and a pair of mundane jeans.

Clary didn't answer, seeing as he already knew what the answer would be.

"You don't talk much, do you Ariel?" asked Jace, sitting down in the chair facing hers. He placed both his feet onto the table separating them and looked at her.

"Not to you. And it's Clary." Clary told him with a growl and put the Codex down on the table.

"I know." Jace replied with a shrug, leaning back in his chair.

Clary picked up another book, trying to find out something about the wards she didn't already know. Opening the book and looking at the page for a few minutes.

Jace was clearly looking at her. Growing more irritated by the second, Clary looked up at him.

"Is there something you want?" Clary snapped.

"Nope. I just like being here. It's not my fault you had to be here as well." Jace told her with a smirk on his lips. Clary had noticed he usually smiled that way, careful and mischievous.

Clary rolled her eyes visibly and met the boy's golden stare. "I'll gladly leave." she informed him and was about to stand up when he declared, "You'll come to like it you know."

Clary looked at him calmly, "Like what?"

"The Institute, it grows on you. You'll come to like it, just wait and see." Jace smiled a loop-sided smile.

"Well, don't hold your breathe. Or do it, I don't really care." Clary snapped back and got to her feet.

She heard Jace chuckle cynically and in the matter of seconds, he too was on his feet.

"Why are you making this so hard for yourself? You're lucky, you know that?" Jace looked into her emerald green eyes as she turned to face him.

"Lucky? You Shadowhunters have called me a lot of things while I've been here, but _lucky_ it's a first." Clary raised her voice as she spoke angry.

"Well you are. After what you've done, you are lucky they didn't strip you of your marks and leave you as a mundane or just killed you. You're lucky that you've gotten a second chance, and you should take it, after all it's not normal for the Clave to give second chances, and certainly not to someone like you!" He had raised his voice, but it still held the uninterested tone.

"Someone like me?" Clary snapped back at him, "You mean someone with demon blood?"

Jace set his jaw in a stubborn line as he struggled to find the words he was looking for, "Well, yes. It's not like you can deny it." he said finally.

"It's not like I want to either." she replied.

She was, again, about to turn around and leave when he spoke up. "Hey. I didn't mean that."

Clary looked at him in confusion. "Didn't mean what?"

"That whole demon blood thing." his luminous eyes rested on her as she narrowed her eyes about to answer him when another voice rang from the doorway.

"JACE!" a boy with the same blond locks as Jace walked into the library, "I can't believe you, you said you would help me train at four, in five minutes, it's six." he had bright blue eyes that stared with irritation at his older brother.

"Iwan, I completely forgot." Jace said with a smirk playing on his lips.

"No you didn't, you just didn't want to." Iwan replied and leaned against the door.

"Yeah, you're right." Said Jace shortly walking past Clary, ignoring her.

Clary went back to the chair and picked up the _Codex_ from the table. Both boys were about to leave when the younger boy turned around with a mischievous smile on his lips, "Do you want to come?" he asked Clary.

She could hear the older Herondale boy swear under his breath at his younger brother.

"I'm not," Clary began before she realised they might not know she wasn't allowed into the training room. "Yeah, sure." Clary smiled falsely. Iwan smiled, while Jace frowned slightly at her reply.

It was a short walk to the training room and they had mostly walked in silence, if one didn't count the younger Nephilim and his short, meaningless questions.

Both boys went into the changing room, while Clary looked around. It was the same room they had kept her in before she had changed into her true self, when they questioned her.

It took nothing more than two minutes for both Herondales to enter the room. They looked like two copies of the same person, one slightly younger than the other, and with blue eyes.

Jace ignored Clary as he lifted a sword; it had a cruciform hilt with a straight double-edged blade and he commanded that his brother did the same.

Clary looked at the sword Jace had in his hand, he instructed his brother and soon the swift movements of the boys encircled the room. Clary heard metal hit metal with soft clinks.

Both Jace and Iwan moved quickly, giving the other little time to think, making the opponents next move more instinctual. Jace was clearly overpowering his brother after a little while, the blue eyed boy breathing heavy moving fast, his sword hitting the silver sword in his brother's hands.

Jace blocked him and linked his own heavy sword in the one in Iwan's hands and with a powerful move the boy lost his sword. Jace pointed the tip of his sword at Iwan, before lowering it giving Iwan an irritated comment about gripping his sword better if he wanted to survive.

Clary backed away, leaning against the cold walls in the training room. She found the fighting fascinating; it felt like a long time since she had held a sword herself. Even if Clary liked the slender blades of rapiers better, especially the ones Maggie had made of silver and gold. Silver for Downworlder protection and gold for demons.

She found herself lost in thoughts when she saw the Herondale boys had moved on to another exercise. With a thick dagger in his hand, Iwan weighted his body correctly before throwing the dagger fast through the air. It hit its target, a human looking dummy, in the chest, but it clearly missed the heart, where he was aiming.

Clary uttered in suspiration, "You know, knife throwing is probably the least profitable skill to possess."

Jace turned around as the other boy threw another knife. "Excuse me, did you say something?" Jace asked in an annoyed tone.

"Yeah," Clary pushed away from the wall, "As a matter of fact I did. You shouldn't teach him how to throw knives." she declared.

"Oh." The single exclamation dripped of sarcasm as he looked at Clary, "And why is that?"

"Well, primarily, how are you supposed to carry enough knives for it to actually be a useful weapon? Secondly, it's a lot more difficult to make than other weapons, like arrows or chakrams." Clary pointed out, receiving a glare from the golden eyed boy.

"You probably just don't know how to throw a knife properly." Said Jace irritated.

"Seriously?" she exclaimed as she walked towards him. "I know perfectly well how to throw a knife." she raised her voice slightly as she spoke.

Jace just raised his eyebrows at her before turning to his brother again. He told Iwan to keep going, but the younger boy wasn't finished with Clary.

"Prove it." He said loudly.

"What?" Clary asked startled.

"Prove that you know how to throw a knife 'perfectly well.'" He air quoted her words and slid a sharp dagger toward her.

Clary picked it up and looked at him astonished. "You want me to throw a dagger?" Clary asked.

"Yep." Iwan replied at the same time as Jace said "No."

Clary smirked at the uneasy looking Jace before replying with a short, "Okay."

Clary walked over to the place where Iwan stood, her hand carefully gripping the hilt of the dagger.

Jace eyed Clary as she moved, his tense gaze following her movements carefully. She knew he would be ready to attack if she as much as moved an inch too much towards his brother.

The dagger felt familiar in Clary's hand, it honestly was one of Clary's favourite, but she rarely used them in battle.

Clary looked at the dummy Iwan had stabbed. His knife was still caught inside the body's chest.

Jace sent her a warning look before backing away. Clary saw a glimpse of concentration in Jace's eyes that had nothing to do with anger or protection towards his brother. What Clary saw was the lust to see her actually preform the throw, he knew she was good, and after fighting her, he wanted to see how well she did when she was not attacked by four other shadowhunters, or a Greater Demon. But Clary didn't know that.

Clary inhaled before placing the knife in a blade grip in her dominant hand. She took one step back and lifted her hand, bending her wrist slightly.

Iwan looked at her suspiciously, irritation from her words showing in his expression.

Clary moved her hand rapidly and the knife zoomed through the air. The knife cut into the dummy's neck, violently tearing it apart.

"You didn't hit the heart either." Iwan stated with a satisfied smile on his lips.

"I didn't aim for the heart." Clary replied, sending the boy an annoyed look.

The blue eyed boy looked back at her raising one eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because that's dumb, that's why." Clary sighed and walked to pick up the knife.

Jace looked at her with a slight smirk curving one side of his lips up.

"It's not; the heart is one of the most important organs in a body and-" Iwan's sentence was cut off, "The heart is not that easy to hit, as you just demonstrated with that horrible throw. You will probably miss or leave your opponent capable of continue fighting." Clary explained.

"Not if I throw it hard enough." Iwan shrugged.

"Yeah, but you would have to get through the sternum and the ribs before you could even touch the heart, and if you do get your knife as far, you can't be sure you actually threw the knife hard enough to kill or seriously maim your opponent." Clary continued.

"Okay, so why did you stab it in the neck!" Iwan asked somewhat provoked.

Clary smirked and touched the dummy's neck, showing the rift her knife had made.

"Parting a carotid artery in the neck cuts off the blood supply to the brain." Said Clary in a bored voice. "Your victim may be conscious for up to half a minute after, but nothing more, and if you stab the neck right it will also cause your victim to aspirate blood that will lead to suffocation and eventually death."

Iwan looked up at Clary with narrow eyes. He bit his lower lip contemplating her words.

"Can you show me?" He asked with a wide smile on his lips.

Clary could hear Jace groan irritated and looked up meeting his golden eyes. A nearly invisible smile played on his lips and he looked away.

A short chuckle escaped Clary and she looked Iwan again, "No." she replied and turned around.

"What? Why not?" He asked stubbornly, his age showing in his words.

"Because you said the heart is the most important organ. Learn how to stab it."

"No, but-" Iwan looked at Clary with twinkling blue eyes.

"I don't want to teach you anything." said Clary.

"But, you can't just.." Iwan's words died as they left his mouth.

"Yes I can." Clary told him and began walking away from him, her tense exterior back in place.

As she moved towards the door she mentally cursed her own behaviour, but she didn't get a long time reflecting it, as she opened the door a redheaded Shadowhunter stormed inside.

"Clary!" she sounded out of breath.

"I've said it a million times now Fairchild, don't call me that."

"Clarissa." she corrected herself and continued, "What are you doing here, you know you aren't allowed into the training room."

"Of course _I_ know that, but they, they don't." Clary pointed at the two Herondale boys and sent Jocelyn a smirk.

Jace sent Clary an anger filled look, but before he could say something to her, Jocelyn grabbed Clary's arm and began dragging her out of the room. "LET ME GO!" Clary snapped angry.

"Fine, but get out. I don't want the guards to see you in here, you should know better than going against direct orders." Jocelyn snapped back.

"I do, I just wanted to show you how easy it is to get in there. You can't control everything I do." Clary smirked.

"By the angel Clarissa, I don't want to control you. I want to show you that you don't belong with your father, he's not a good man." Jocelyn said.

"A good man, are you really going there? You think you have any say in who's good and evil in this world?" Clary yelled back angry.

A flash of hurt shone in Jocelyn's eyes, but it was gone in a second.

"Just get back to your room, I'll tell them I found you." Jocelyn said stiffly.

Clary growled an answer and walked down the stairs to the residential wing. Her head had begun thumping painfully again and she massaged her temples carefully. She let her hand slide down the side of her face, brushing her scar with her fingertips. Anger consumed her as she slammed the door to her room closed and leaned against the door.

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So, what did you think? Please leave a review, because I love reading what you think. Next chapter will be up soon.

And just keep in mind that this chapter was a very important chapter for future chapters, I'm sorry it wasn't very long and not a lot of action happened, but it will be some action in a few chapters.


	16. Vampire encounter

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Mortal Instrument series. Everything recognisable belongs to Cassandra Clare.

Warning: This chapter may contain scenes with violence.

Thank you so so so much for all the wonderful reviews.

* * *

Isabelle smiled as she entered the Institute's Sanctuary. Her black hair pulled neatly into a high ponytail and dressed in a black lace dress.

"I told you not to keep me waiting." his boyish voice rang from the end of the room.

"It takes time to look like this." Isabelle answered with a grin as she moved towards him.

"Ah, when you say it like that, I guess I can let it pass." he smiled and bit his lower lip, eyeing the Shadowhunter carefully. He raised his left hand to touch her cheek, his cold fingers met her warm skin and her eyes lit up eagerly.

Isabelle raised an eyebrow at him and moved closer to the vampire's body, closing the space between them. Her dark brown eyes locked in his and he smiled shyly, breaking the tough façade he had going.

"I don't know about you, but I think this is the moment when you kiss me." Isabelle whispered and heard him laugh coyly.

He brought his face down a few inches, their lips met softly. Isabelle could feel the coolness of his lips pressing down on her own soft lips. They kissed, it was sweet and gentle, and he tasted like salt and blood. Simon's hands tangled into her ponytail and within seconds the elastic keeping her hair together was broken.

She knew he felt the fast beat of her heart against his silent chest. His heart didn't beat, but in that moment Isabelle's beat strong enough for both of them.

She felt her long hair tickle her back as it fell, his fingers still moving inside it. He pushed against her making her walk backwards until she hit the wall, lips still locked with each other.

Isabelle wrapped both her hands around his neck, getting lost in the passionate kiss. The blood taste in her mouth was gone, and she could only taste the sweetness of his lips.

The long kiss kept it's slow pace and she realised the vampire didn't need to breathe. She was about to break the kiss when a familiar voice rang from the doorway.

"By the Angel, isn't this awkward." Jace smirked as he leaned on the door frame.

"Jace." Isabelle said surprised as Simon pulled away. She was sure she saw him blush a little bit.

"_I'm not dating a vampire." _Jace mimicked Isabelle's earlier words, receiving a glare from the raven-haired girl.

"Whatever. Just go away." Isabelle grumbled.

"Eh, I would, it's not like I particularly enjoyed that horrid sight, but you've apparently forgotten why the bloodsucker's here in the first place." Jace stated and walked further in when he heard another set of voices coming around the corner.

"You should be glad it was me, and not Alec who walked in here, he would flip out." Jace laughed and turned to greet the two boys entering the Sanctuary.

"So, any news?" Alec asked as he looked at the vampire.

"I can think of one." Jace smirked at Isabelle, who sent him a warning glare.

"Yes. After the Philadelphia Clan slaughter the New York Clan's grown angrier with the Nephilim, accusing them of the attack." Simon explained, "That's absurd, they know about the law." Jonathan stated.

"Yeah, and here is where is gets, I don't know, bad I guess. They think you've broken the law, killing them in cold blood without reason, so some of the more uncivilised, younger Children of the Night have been changing up their feeding routines a bit." Simon explained carefully.

"What do you mean 'changed their feeding routine'?" asked Jonathan.

"They are rougher, drinking more than usual, most of their victims die from blood loss." Simon replied and saw the shocked expressions on the Shadowhunters faces.

"What?" Isabelle exclaimed angry, "They're killing?"

"Yeah, well I said it was bad." Simon defended himself and sent her a look of understanding.

"BAD?" Isabelle breathed angry, "Simon, this isn't bad, this is breaking the Accords, the laws, they aren't just playing around anymore, they are-" Simon cut her off, "Izzy, I know. Why do you think I'm telling you guys?"

It was a long silence in the room before Jace and Alec met each other's gazes, "I think we'll report it to the Clave." Alec replied, "We've done enough on our own."

"Yeah, we should tell the Inquisitor." Jace agreed. He was still angry with his grandmother for punishing him about the Silent City incident, but didn't want another thing for her to scold him about.

"Who would've thought, Jace Herondale agreeing with something that doesn't involve fighting." Simon said sarcastically.

"I didn't say I wouldn't fight, bloodsucker. I just think we should inform the Clave before we go." Jace snapped back irritated.

"Ah, you never get tired of calling me 'bloodsucker' do you?" He asked sarcastic.

"Nope. It got such a great tone to it. Blood-sucker." Jace smiled a pleased smile before he began walking with Alec and Jonathan back into the Institute.

Isabelle sent Simon an apologetic look before she kissed the corner of his mouth lightly.

"See you later." Isabelle whispered and followed the three other Shadowhunters.

What none of them knew was that two younger Nephilim had listened to the whole conversation.

Iwan grinned at his best friend, "We should totally help!" He whispered excitedly.

Max smiled back, but his mouth cornered in concern.

"I don't know Iwan, it sounded like something fully trained Shadowhunters should take care of." Max answered and got up from where he was lying on the grass.

"Jace and Izzy aren't fully trained, and they get to do all sorts of things."

"But, they're more trained than us." Max argued.

Iwan sent him one of the infamous Herondale glares, one eyebrow raised in a mocking expression.

"Okay, if you don't dare take the risk, I won't ask you to come with me." Iwan shrugged.

"You can't go alone!" Max raised his voice in shock.

"I'll have too." He replied with a pleading tone to his voice.

"No, I'll come with you. It's too dangerous to go alone." he answered.

"Then it's settled, let's go check out some vampires." Iwan said thrilled.

"God, why do you always get me into these kinds of situations?" Max complained, but he followed his friend out of the Sanctuary.

Getting weapons wasn't hard, the Institute was full of them, silver knives and daggers, stakes and holy water. It was the basic knowledge of 'To Kill a Vampire 101', both boys carried the weapons lightly, they knew well how to both dress up for a fight and the importance of coming prepared.

Max followed Iwan out into the darkness of the streets outside the Institute. They began walking carefully down the street. Iwan had explained that the New York Clan lived in Hotel Dumont, or as the vampires liked to call it 'Dumort', standing for _Hotel of the Dead._ Probably some sort of sick Vampire-humour.

They took left after walking down the avenue for about five minutes. The street narrowed and Iwan was sure it became colder.

"Are you sure you know where you're going?" Max asked irritated, his fighting gear made him look older, but his voice still held his childish manners.

Iwan snapped out of his thoughts and surveyed the area. "Yeah, I think so." he replied.

"You think so? Damn it Iwan, we're lost, aren't we?" Max complained.

"No, we're not lost. We're just primarily taking a longer route around the city. You can't argue the view is pretty cool." Iwan joked, receiving a glare from his friend.

They turned and walked down a narrow street between two large buildings. They hadn't gotten very far when they heard the sound of engine and shrieking tires.

"There!" Iwan whispered as he followed the sound.

The two boys ran down the street, their _soundless_ runes providing both of them with the ability to move undetected.

"Adam." The name rang from a few feet away and the Nephilim jumped to the side.

"Get on your bike. We don't have time for you to drain her completely." The same voice laughed.

Max sent Iwan a concerned glance, but Iwan ignored it. The second vampire jumped on his motorcycle. The two boys hiding in the darkness pressed flat against the wall, waiting for them to begin driving.

"On three." Iwan whispered and Max nodded, he seemed to have gotten his confidence back.

"One. Two." Iwan inhaled deeply, he drew his wooden stake and saw Max do the same.

"Three." he counted and both Shadowhunters jumped in front of the two motorbikes.

Only it was not only two. Four large, pale vampires stopped with a screech.

Iwan saw two bodies lying on the side of the street, mundanes. Their complexions were pale and he could see blood running down their necks. Both looked young, two girls in their mid-twenties.

"What do we have here?" One of the vampires said while jumping off his bike.

"What would two Nephilim like yourself be doing our in the night? I've heard it's not safe." another dark-haired vampire said with a sneer.

"You've been killing people." Iwan shouted angry. His eyes could barely leave the dead bodies and he raised his arm. The wooden stake in his hand and all he wanted to do was throw himself at the vampires.

"Good observation." The third and largest of the Night Children laughed hauntingly.

"It's against the law." Max shouted, judging from his voice he too was beyond angry.

"The law was broken when your kind began killing ours." The first one explained calmly with a bitter undertone.

"We haven't killed any of yours!" Iwan walked towards him.

"Okay kid. Get out of the way or we'll break another law right now." the one closest to Iwan jeered.

"We'll see about that bloodsucker!" Iwan yelled heating, sounding so much like his older brother it was hard to tell the difference.

Both Iwan and Max moved forward their stakes ready. The vampires hissed, their voices blending together in the night air.

Iwan's wooden stake hit one of the vampires' sides. The vampire jumped back as the stake cut his skin. "You really shouldn't have done that." the vampire explained as his fangs shone in the night.

His stake was still clutched in his right hand, but with the vampire's lightning-fast reflexes is was hard to get another hit. The vampires moved around them. The Nephilim jumped out of most of their strikes. But they were too fast. These vampires struck like vipers.

He heard Max shout something. He had dropped his stake and had to rely on his own body weight to throw the vampires off him. Looking at Max, one could easily see that was never going to happen. Vampires were stronger than Nephilim and they moved faster.

Iwan saw one of the two vampires Max was fighting grab his shirt and fling him into the brick wall. With a loud thump Max's body went limp and he fell to the ground. Iwan saw blood trickle down the dark-haired boy's forehead and he felt a lump form in his stomach. _Please don't be dead. Please don't be dead. _

Iwan yelled, but at the same time he was attacked from both sides. He kicked out at the brown-haired vampire. It wasn't a powerful blow, but it startled him.

That was his shot. Iwan jolted forwards, stake in hand. He was about to send the stake into the vampire's hard torso when he remembered Clary's words.

He quickly moved his hand up, the stake ripped into the man's neck and he screamed in pain.

Iwan could feel his blood pumping through his veins, hard and fast. The metallic smell filled the air and he backed away from his swearing opponent.

He would have to wound the vampire before he could stab his heart; piercing a wooden stake through his heart would kill him.

The vampire clutched his neck, and with another angry hiss he jumped at Iwan.

Blood from the vampire stained Iwan's clothes and he punched him in the face.

Iwan heard the sound of bone breaking as his fist collided with the cold face, but with the adrenaline spreading through his body, he could barely feel it.

Iwan glanced over at Max, he was lying on the ground, but Iwan saw his rapid breath indicating he was still alive.

All four of the vampire's had turned their attention towards Iwan now. He had no way of getting away.

"You stupid Nephilim. You always think you are in the right." sneered the biggest of them.

"That's because we are you filthy bloodsucker!" Iwan shouted, his breath was running wild and his legs ached with every step he took.

He didn't know if he had gotten hurt while fighting, adrenaline was pumping in his body, keeping him fighting.

Iwan saw the swift vampires move towards him, they were incredibly fast, their bodies falling into the shadows of the night. He lifted his stake and readied himself for the attack.

He jumped back as all four of them went for him. One grasped his stake arm shoving him towards the ground with his heavy body. He felt his sharp stake pierce through the chest of the vampire and he saw the vampire's wild eyes widen. He looked shocked, like he couldn't believe what happened next.

The vampire died. His limp body falling over Iwan as they both hit the ground hard. Iwan groaned in pain before the dark streets around him began swimming before his eyes. Everything went black.

* * *

So, Simon is introduced in this chapter. And I gave you some Sizzy.

This is me trying to avoid the fact that I again leave you guys with a cliffhanger. Sorry.

And I know it's not the longest chapter, but I actually planned for the last chapter and this to be one chapter. But it seemed really weird and I wasn't satisfied with what I had written.

Leave a review, and I will update faster.


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